The Gender Game 5 by Bella Forrest (top 5 books to read .TXT) 📗

She bent down, and I gingerly put my arm over her shoulder, while she wrapped hers around my waist. I hadn’t noticed before how much shorter than me Dr. Tierney was, but my bruised ribs were incredibly glad of it now. With both of us working together, she eased me into a standing position. I swayed into her, glad she was there, as a wave of dizziness assailed my senses, making everything lean hard to the left. Dr. Tierney held me through it, and after a few seconds, the world righted itself.

“You okay?” she asked, concern thick in her voice.

I wasn’t exactly okay, but I would be damned if I was going to tell her that. She’d just send me back to bed.

“I’m good,” I replied. The look she gave me was filled with doubt, but I ignored it. “Let’s go.”

We made it to the door, moving painfully slowly, but I didn’t think I could move much faster than that. Together, we opened the door and stepped into the hall. I gazed around in wonder, as if I were seeing this place for the first time, even though I knew I had seen it before… and I wasn’t even sure how many times. Ahead, I could hear the welcome sound of Viggo’s voice.

The deep, comforting, authoritative sound bolstered my weakened strength, and I moved toward it, eager to see him. As I came out of the hall, Viggo continued talking, seeming not to notice me; but one by one, everyone sitting around the table looked up at me, their eyes widening. Viggo didn’t notice it at first, but after a moment, he paused, then shifted in his seat to look at me.

Everything I had gone through was worth it, just to see his face in that moment. I watched, as if in slow motion, as a tumble of emotions passed across his normally carefully composed face: pure shock, surprise—was that rueful, fond irritation?—all of them eclipsed very soon by one of his rare, brilliant smiles.

I felt myself blushing, a smile rising to my face as well. I couldn’t explain why, but in that moment, under the weight of the stares of everybody in the room, I felt an impish urge to raise my hand and waggle my fingers at them.

So I did.

15

Violet

My wave only had half the desired effect: Owen and Amber smiled, but Thomas’ face was pure apprehension, and Viggo was already out of his chair, moving toward me, concern etched on the strong lines of his face even through the smile he wore. He also looked tired, and I could imagine him sitting by my bed, unable to sleep. It wasn’t hard to imagine at all—it was how I had spent my time during his coma, and Viggo might have been even more protective of me than I was of him.

Dr. Tierney still had her arm around me, and I felt the insistent press of her hand, politely reminding me that, yes, she was helping me—but I was also heavy. I reached out to take Viggo’s hand, a tingle going through me as our fingers met, and allowed him to take some of my weight from her. Together, they helped me hobble toward the nearest empty seat. Amber sprang out of her chair and pulled it out for me, and I gave her a thankful look as they helped me sit down, taking care not to show exactly how relieved I was that I hadn’t had to deal with that particular obstacle.

Sitting was awesome. So much better than standing.

As soon as I sat down, Dr. Tierney let me go. Viggo, however, knelt down by me, his hand sliding down my arm, threading his fingers through mine. “Are you okay?” he asked, his green eyes searching. I felt my face soften, and I gave him a small nod.

“As well as can be expected,” I replied with a smile. Okay, I was exuding more optimism than I felt about my condition, but I was in no mood to admit it. I needed to get up, find out what had happened to Tim, and figure out what was going on.

He gave me a dubious look, but nodded. He pressed my hand against his cheek, his eyes drifting closed as he leaned into it. I curled my fingers slightly, feeling the rough beard forming on his jaw, and relief poured through me. We were alive, and together. That meant anything was possible. Dropping a kiss onto the palm of my hand, he stood up and slowly pulled away, heading back to his chair. A part of me wanted him to stay, longing for more of his touch—but I knew Viggo was too private a person to let our reunion linger in front of all of our companions. I’d seen enough in his eyes in that one moment to know he was intensely grateful I was up and walking.

I watched him a moment longer, before Amber’s arms draped around me, dragging my attention away from him. She rested her head on my shoulder, squeezing gently. “I’m so glad you’re awake,” she said. “I was really worried about you.”

I smiled and patted her arm. “C’mon… you know no stupid princess of Matrus could keep me down,” I said, and Owen and Amber smiled. Thomas’ expression stayed locked in that same look of nervous expectation, while Viggo’s lips turned downward in a brief shadow of a frown. Okay, so maybe it hadn’t been a very tasteful joke, but I couldn’t really help it.

I was particularly concerned about Thomas. There was something going on with his face, something triggering a memory, half remembered and almost dreamlike. I licked my lips, focusing on it, until I was able to piece together the last time I had been in this room. I pushed away the embarrassment and squared my shoulders, exhaling in order to calm the nervous flutter in my