Chapter 17 Lina
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Lina
Wake up.
The voice echoed through the darkness, soft and insistent.
WAKE UP.
Geez. Pushy much?
I tried to move, but my body felt wrong. My arms ached. My legs felt disconnected from my brain. Everything hurt in that bone deep way that told me I’d been lying still for way too long.
I attempted to open my eyes. Failed. Then tried again. On the third attempt, light flooded my vision and I immediately squeezed them shut because holy hell, that was bright. I blinked and blinked some more until the world finally decided to come into focus.
White ceiling, beeping machines, the distinct smell of antiseptic and clean sheets…
A hospital. I was in a hospital.
Why was I in a hospital?
I tried to remember, but my brain offered me nothing.
Just a blank slate where memories should be.
My pulse spiked and my hands started to tremble.
I didn’t know where I was, didn’t know how I got here, didn’t know my own name.
Panic clawed at my throat and I forced myself to breathe, to stay calm and figure this out.
I turned my head to the right, my neck protesting the movement.
There was a chair next to my bed. Empty.
But it looked worn, used, the cushion dented in the shape of someone who had sat there for a long time.
My chest squeezed at the sight, though I couldn’t explain why.
Who had been sitting there? Who had been waiting for me?
And why did the emptiness of that chair make me feel so desperately alone?
I kept turning my head, and that’s when I saw her.
A woman stood next to my IV pole, a syringe in her hand. She wasn’t wearing a uniform. No scrubs, no hospital badge, nothing that said she belonged here. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and her eyes were wide, panicked, locked onto mine with an expression that screamed guilt.
Fear shot through me. Who was this woman? What was she doing? What was in that syringe?
We stared at each other.
One second. Two. Three.
“You’re awake,” she squeaked.
No shit, Sherlock.
Before I could respond, before I could ask who the hell she was or what she was doing with that syringe near my IV, she bolted. Just straight up ran for the door and disappeared into the hallway.
Oh, hell no.
I threw off my blankets and swung my legs over the side of the bed, determined to chase after her because that was suspicious as hell.
My feet hit the cold floor and I pushed myself up and my legs just..
. didn’t work. They buckled under me and I went down, my knees hitting the tiles with a crack that sent pain shooting through my joints.
“Fuck!” I yelled, grabbing onto the side of the bed to keep myself from completely face planting.
I glared down at my legs. They looked fine.
Normal. Two legs, two feet, ten toes. Everything seemed to be in the right place.
So why weren’t they cooperating? Why was my body betraying me? What was wrong with me?
A door slammed open across the room and I looked up to find my brain completely short circuiting at the sight before me.
A man stood in what I now realized was a bathroom doorway.
His hair was wet, dripping water onto his bare shoulders, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt.
Just sweatpants hanging low on his hips and an absolutely unfair amount of muscle on display.
His gray eyes were wild, frantic, searching the room until they landed on me.
And then his entire expression changed.
The panic melted into relief. His shoulders dropped. His jaw unclenched. And were those... tears? There was definitely moisture gathering in those gorgeous gray eyes as he looked at me sprawled on the floor in my hospital gown, clinging to my bed for dear life.
“Lina,” he whispered.
Then he was moving, crossing the room in three long strides, dropping to his knees beside me and pulling me into his arms. He held me against his bare chest and I could feel his heart pounding, could feel the way his arms trembled as he crushed me to him.
Every muscle in my body went rigid. A stranger was touching me. A stranger was holding me and crying into my hair and I didn’t know who he was or what he wanted or if I was safe. I felt safe, though. It was so damn confusing, I was losing my mind.
“I missed you so much,” he breathed into my hair. “I thought I was going to die without you. You were gone and I was nothing. Nothing without you.”
His voice cracked on the words and I felt his tears dripping onto my shoulder.
I should have pushed him away, maybe screamed for help. I should have done anything other than sit there frozen in the arms of a random man.
But my body... my body wasn’t afraid of him. My body leaned into his touch, craved his warmth, relaxed against him without my permission. It was the strangest, most disorienting sensation. My mind screamed danger while my body hummed with comfort.
And holy shit, he was beautiful. Not just handsome, but devastatingly gorgeous. Sharp jaw covered in stubble, cheekbones that could cut glass, gray eyes rimmed with red from crying but still the most captivating eyes I’d ever seen.
He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at my face, and his eyes dropped to my lips.
His hand came up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen.
My heart stuttered in my chest. My skin tingled where he touched me.
Every nerve ending in my body seemed to lean toward him, craving more contact, more warmth, more of whatever this connection was that I couldn’t name or understand.
I didn’t understand any of this. I didn’t understand why I wasn’t terrified, why his touch felt familiar when his face didn’t, or why my body was responding to him when my brain couldn’t even supply his name.
He leaned in.
And instead of stopping him, instead of doing the reasonable thing and pushing this stranger away, I leaned in too.
His lips met mine and everything inside me went quiet. No confusion, no fear, no panic about waking up in a hospital with no memories. Just warmth spreading through my chest as he kissed me with a desperation that told me he’d been waiting a long time for this.
His tears mixed with the kiss, salty on my tongue, and his hand slid into my hair to hold me closer. He kissed me thoroughly, completely, holding nothing back. And I kissed him back as if I was possessed. Maybe I was. Possessed by a very, very horny spirit.
When he finally pulled away, we were both breathing hard. His forehead rested against mine, his eyes closed, a small smile on his lips.
“I love you,” he murmured. “I love you so much, Lina.”
My heart squeezed.
And then reality crashed back in.
What was I doing? I had just kissed a stranger who had walked out of a bathroom and grabbed me and I had just... let him. Kissed him back, even. What the hell was wrong with me? This man could be anyone. He could be dangerous.
The guilt hit me, because this man was confusing me with someone else and the horny spirit in me totally took advantage of that. I was a shitty person.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice rough from disuse. “I think you’re confused.”
His eyes snapped open. The smile disappeared.
“What?”
“Well, you see...” I bit my lip, suddenly very aware that I was still pressed against his bare chest. I needed space and to think, to get away from this man and figure out what the hell was going on. “I don’t know you. But it was a nice kiss. Whoever you love must be a lucky person.”
I tried to smile at him, hoping it came across as apologetic rather than terrified or guilty. Because I, somehow, felt guilty. This gorgeous man was clearly taken, clearly in love with someone, and I had just taken advantage of his misunderstanding.
But he wasn’t smiling back. His expression had gone from relieved to confused to panicked in the span of three seconds.
“What do you mean you don’t know me?” he asked, his voice strained. “Lina, it’s me. It’s Knox. Your mate. Your husband.”
I blinked at him. Husband? This gorgeous stranger was claiming to be my husband?!
“I’m sorry, I really don’t...”
He was already moving, standing up and pulling me with him, setting me gently on the bed before striding to the door.
“Dr. Hartley!” he yelled into the hallway. “I need Dr. Hartley in here right now!”
There was commotion outside. Footsteps. Voices. Then a woman in a white coat rushed into the room, her expression alert and professional.
“Alpha, what’s wrong? Is the Luna...” She stopped when she saw me sitting up, awake, and her eyes widened. “Oh! She’s awake! That’s wonderful!”
Alpha? Luna? What kind of hospital was this?
“She doesn’t remember me,” the man, Knox, said. His hands were fisted at his sides and his jaw was clenched so tight I could see the muscle ticking. “She doesn’t know who I am.”
Dr. Hartley’s expression shifted from surprised to concerned. She approached my bed with a calm demeanor, pulling a small flashlight from her pocket.
“Luna, I’m Dr. Hartley. I’ve been taking care of you. May I examine you?”
I nodded because I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t know if I could trust this woman. I didn’t know if I could trust anyone. But what choice did I have? I couldn’t even stand on my own. I was completely at the mercy of these strangers who kept calling me names I didn’t recognize.
She shined the light in my eyes, checked my pulse, asked me to follow her finger with my gaze.
“Can you tell me your name?” she asked.
I opened my mouth to answer and... nothing. Blank. I didn’t know my name.
“I don’t... I can’t...” I shook my head, frustrated and frightened. “I don’t remember.”
“Do you know where you are?”
“A hospital?”
“Do you know what year it is?”
I stared at her. I had no idea.
“Do you know him?” She gestured toward Knox, who was pacing near the window, running his hands through his wet hair repeatedly.