Chapter 130: The Heartbeat Beneath his hand

"You are the most restless person I’ve ever met, you know that, right?"

Annelise had been standing by the door for almost an hour, silently watching Della move around the room.

The wheels creaked softly beneath her as she made slow, uneven circles around the bed, then turned toward the window, then changed her mind and wheeled back again.

She couldn’t seem to stay still.

Every few minutes, she’d stop, shift painfully in the padded seat, and stare at the door as though Malachi might suddenly walk through it. Then she’d start moving again, the wheels carrying her in another restless loop around the room.

It was becoming less like she was actually going somewhere and more like she simply needed her body to do something while her mind tore itself apart.

By nightfall, she seemed to have made up her mind, and she looked up at Annelise, "That’s it. It’s been four days since I woke up, and I can’t keep waiting for Malachi to show up so I can ask him for his blood. Sneak me out tonight to his chambers,"

Annelise was not surprised to hear that at all. In fact, she’s been waiting for all day for the fuse inside Della to finally blow.

"Alright," she replied.

"Alright?" Della asked, wheeling closer to her with a brow up, "You’re not gonna argue with me or tell me not to go because people think I’m dead and I can’t afford to be seen?"

"No. It’s useless,"

"Oh," Della paused, "So how are we gonna go about it? Should we—"

Annelise, who was still standing by the door, suddenly changed her expression into something of alarm. Her eyes widened at whatever she felt or saw, and she brought a finger and pressed it against both lips, gesturing at Della to keep quiet.

"What?" Della mouthed.

Annelise motioned toward the door, "He’s here. He’s coming here!"

"Who? Cassian?" She looked up expectantly.

Annelise walked away from the door and stopped right beside the bed. Her expression was neutral again, making it seem like that hushed conversation never even happened.

And now, Malachi was the one standing by the door.

The spark in Della’s eyes faded the moment she saw it was him, and she had the sudden urge to turn around and roll away on her wheel.

"Excuse us,"

Anne looked at Della for a second, then she bowed and left the room, closing the door behind her.

"Yes?" Della looked up at him, her face hard, "Why are you here?"

Malachi looked down at the wheel she was on, "The Artificer who made this did a good job,"

"Are you here to talk to me about the wheelchair?"

He walked further into the room, closer to her, and she instantly pulled back the lever and wheeled herself further away from him.

That did not stop him.

"Who got it for you?"

"I don’t think that’s any of your business," She said, and looked away from him. Why does a normal conversation with him always have to lead to tears stinging the back of her eyes, "Why are you here?"

"I came to see you,"

She scrunched up her nose, "What?"

"I missed you,"

Wow!

Just...wow!

The audacity! The shamelessness!

Anger rose within her, hot and riding through her veins. It got to her heart, and her chest felt like it wanted to explode.

"You...miss me?" The words sounded like she had just finished swallowing nails and was still trying to speak.

"Yes,"

"And what exactly do you...miss about me?"

"Everything,"

"Alright," She nodded once, "Can you prove it?"

"What?"

"Prove it," She looked at him like she was daring him, "Prove to me that you miss me,"

"Am I getting anything in return?"

"Yes. You get what you’ve always wanted from me,"

"And that is?"

Della honestly had no idea where this conversation was going! "Prove it first and I’ll tell you. Moreover, why do I have to give you something in return? You’re the one who misses me, right?"

Never in a thousand years did she ever think she would even be having this kind of conversation with Malachi. After every freaking thing that had happened — that he had made her go through, he still had the tenacity to feel something for her.

To even admit it like he was some starved man.

Della didn’t believe it.

He probably thought she was incredibly stupid, and maybe this was just some kind of plot to trample on her some more, and if it was, she was going to make at least sure she got something out of it.

"How do I prove it?"

She swallowed, then she rolled her chair closer to him. They met in the middle of the room, and then she extended her good wrist out to him, "Place your arm here,"

His brows furrowed, "Why?"

"Because, I turned into a Vampire the other night and I’ve been craving an Alpha’s blood. To be specific, I want your blood,"

Now, he looked genuinely confused.

"Are you gonna prove it or not?" She demanded, a frown on her face.

He finally stirred after studying her for what felt like forever. Then, he raised his arm and placed it on her hand, making sure he carried most of the weight himself not to hurt her already injured bones.

She held his gaze for a moment, then looked down at his arm. They were at least almost five times bigger than hers, and she started to wonder how much bigger they would have been if he had his wolf with him.

"Are you ready?" She asked.

"You’re going to bite me?"

"Yes, and I’ll suck your blood,"

"Is there—"

"If you were lying about missing me, you can just drop your hands," She said and turned around to leave.

"No, I—" Malachi stuttered, and Della wanted to scream in shock.

Did this man get possessed or what? She could hardly believe it was the same man that had been so cruel to him all those times.

"Here you go," He brought his hand to her mouth himself, "Drink as much as you want,"

She did not hesitate at all.

She sank her teeth into his bulging veins, and the man didn’t even budge. His blood rushed into her mouth — hot, thick, metallic and overwhelming.

She swallowed every drop that rolled down her tongue. This was the blood she needed to get her baby out of its suspended form, and Malachi didn’t have to know that.

If he did, he would never offer his blood and would probably stick out of the room.

And it’s just like Annelise said: The Father needs to give his blood willingly for it to work.

They never said he needed to know why he was giving his blood in the first place.

Della kept sucking like a little child, almost like she was determined to kill Malachi by taking every drop of blood running through his veins. She gripped his hands tightly, ignoring the pain flaring through her arm.

And still, Malachi didn’t seem to mind.

He gently bent over till he was down on one knee, the cold in his eyes dimming till something that looked like fascination sat there. Was she really some kind of Vampire?!

His mouth twitched at the edges, and a tiny smile actually broke out this time.

He looked... enthralled.

Meanwhile, Della was too focused on draining him of every drop of blood to notice. She sucked and sucked till her stomach was filled to the brim, till his veins were starting to close on their own from being opened for too long, before she finally pulled away.

Maybe she really was a Vampire.

Blood stained her lips brightly as she finally looked up at him, and said, "I didn’t need you to prove anything," She whispered, "Our baby has been dying for days now, and what I needed was his father’s blood to kickstart his heart again," As she said so, she gently guided his palm down, till it was pressed against her belly.

Malachi looked back up at her, his expression blank again. He couldn’t feel anything. No heartbeat. Nothing.

He had no idea that something had seriously happened to the child before.

"Give it a few seconds," She whispered again.

She was surprised he waited. He was really being a... different person today. Hopefully, that wouldn’t last long because she hated him more when he was cold and dismissive and always believed the worst in her.

Not this kind of attitude that was making her heart flutter non-stop.

And then, the flutter returned.

Malachi’s eyes shimmered with something that looked like tears, and an actual smile broke out on his face as he looked down at her stomach, then back into her eyes.