Trapped by Seven Mafia Wolves novel Chapter 90

**TITLE: Stars Refuse To Blink by Asa River Knox**
**Chapter 90**

**Matt?**

**Aurora’s POV**

The world around me exists in a state of eerie silence. It’s sterile, devoid of warmth, and feels almost frigid against my skin.

A soft, persistent beeping resonates from somewhere nearby—steady and rhythmic, like a heartbeat that isn’t my own. It should be a sound that brings me comfort, a reminder that life continues, but instead, it amplifies my sense of frailty. It underscores how utterly powerless I feel, how I’ve always felt. My body is leaden, as if I’ve sunken deep into the mattress, trapped in a liminal space between sleep and wakefulness, unable to claw my way back to the surface.

There’s an uncomfortable pinch at my arm—a thin tube affixed to my skin, its chill seeping into my consciousness. My fingers twitch weakly against the blanket, yearning for something solid to anchor me, something tangible to dispel the fog that clouds my thoughts. A small device clipped to my finger vibrates with each heartbeat, a reminder of my current state. My lips feel parched, cracked like the dry earth, and my throat burns with thirst. My head feels stuffed with cotton, heavy and disorienting. I must be under some kind of anesthesia, I think. I blink slowly. Once. Twice. The harsh glare of the hospital lights above stings my eyes, forcing them shut for a moment. When I dare to open them again, the edges of the room appear blurred, fading in and out like the remnants of a bad dream that refuses to let go.

Bandages wrap around me, cocooning my body like a fragile parcel. I feel ensnared, as if I’m stitched together with paper and thread, poised on the brink of unraveling at any moment.

With a Herculean effort, I attempt to move, to sit up. My fingers clutch the thin sheet beneath me, desperate for something to hold onto, something to stabilize my wavering sense of self. But even the slightest shift sends a searing pain ripping through my ribs, a sharp agony that steals the breath from my lungs.

A wince escapes my lips, a sound barely more than a whisper, a testament to my suffering.

Then, as if a switch has been flipped, the atmosphere shifts. Heads snap up around me, as though the very air has changed.

“She’s awake—”

“Aurora!”

Voices rush toward me, the blur of anxiety clearing just enough for me to discern the faces that flood the room. Leon is the first to reach me, moving with urgency, his presence a whirlwind of emotion. His hand finds mine, gripping it as if he fears I might vanish if he loosens his hold. His eyes are wide, wild with relief and a hint of fear, but there’s a desperate quality to his gaze, as though he can scarcely believe I’m truly here, truly awake. Jace follows closely behind, his own eyes rimmed with red, exhaustion etched into his features. He remains silent, but his gaze is sharp, a silent sentinel of worry. Andrei stands near the door, his face pale and drawn, hands clenched tightly at his sides. Raphael is next to me, immediately focused on the machines, monitoring something with a practiced intensity.

Their presence should be a balm, a source of comfort, but instead, I feel small and broken beneath their concerned stares. My throat is parched, and my voice emerges cracked and weak as I attempt to speak.

“W-Where’s…”

My eyes dart around the room, searching past the cluster of worried faces that surround me.

And then they land on someone standing farther back, still and unmoving, not rushing forward. Matteo. He stands near the door, a stark contrast to the rest. His shoulders are tense, rigid, and his jaw is set hard like stone, an impenetrable mask. His eyes are dark and stormy, swirling with emotions I can’t decipher—anger? Fear? Guilt? Perhaps all of them at once? And the most agonizing part? He isn’t looking at me. He’s staring right through me, lost in his own turmoil.

I muster my strength and try again, my voice trembling and slurred from the sedation.

“Matt…”

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify