The Blood Contract Chapter 75: For now, it was enough

By the ti they arrived back at the house, Lucian climbed up to his room with slow and deliberate steps, exhaustion already weighing heavily on his body. Each movent was calculated, like he was forcing himself to stay upright, to ignore the burning fatigue threatening to pull him under. Behind him, Adrian was already peeling off in another direction, moving with urgency down the hall.

Adrian didn’t waste ti. The mont his boots hit the marble floor, he went to inform Doctor Marlowe that they had returned from the eting. Without delay, the woman gathered her dical supplies and made her way up to Lucian’s room.

Lucian was lying in bed when she arrived, half propped up against a mound of pillows. His skin was pale, eyes dulled but still alert.

Marlowe wasted no ti, her movents brisk and professional as she ran through a battery of tests. She worked in silence for the most part, her brow furrowing deeper the longer she observed him. Finally, when she was done, she set the stethoscope aside, her expression grim as her eyes settled on him.

"The dicine doesn’t seem to be working, Mr. Draven," she said, voice tight with concern. "We need another solution."

Lucian’s brows drew together, a faint frown spreading across his tired features. "Are you giving up on your own dicine so soon?" he asked, his tone bordering on dry sarcasm.

"It’s not about giving up," Marlowe replied, her voice carrying a hint of frustration, her expression conflicted as though she was fighting with herself. "Sothing’s... off."

"Relax, Doctor," Lucian said calmly, though his voice was a little rough. "I always feel better after you administer the dicine. I think the problem is I haven’t been resting properly. I’ve been pushing myself too hard."

Marlowe opened her mouth to argue, but Lucian raised a hand slowly, palm out. "No more etings until tomorrow. I’ll take the rest of the day to rest properly. Then you can make your judgnt."

Marlowe let out a sigh, as if letting go of sothing heavy. But her eyes remained sharp. "Have you wondered how you got the injury on your palm?"

Lucian’s gaze drifted down to his hand, the faint cut wrapped but still slightly sore beneath the bandages. "I have," he said. "But I didn’t take it seriously. How did I get it?" he asked, more curious now.

"Serena has sothing similar on her palm," Marlowe said quietly. "She’s doing her best to hide it. I think she tried to heal you... without any of us knowing."

Lucian’s jaw tensed, his expression turning into a deep frown. "Does she know you’ve locked her powers?"

"Not yet," Marlowe answered, and sothing in her voice suggested she wasn’t entirely comfortable with that.

"Let’s keep it that way," Lucian said sharply. Then, with more emphasis, "I’m serious, Marlowe. Don’t let her know. I still have faith in your treatnt. I’ll be better in no ti."

Marlowe didn’t argue this ti. Instead, she changed the subject slightly. "You still need another shot today. And another IV fluid session."

Lucian exhaled deeply. "I really don’t have the strength to go back downstairs."

"You don’t need to," she replied, standing. "I’ll bring everything up here."

As she left the room, the hallway outside greeted her with an unexpected presence. Serena was standing by the door, her posture still and unreadable.

For a mont, Marlowe panicked, wondering if she had overheard the sensitive conversation that had just taken place. But that fear lted away when Serena’s first words ca out.

"Is he unconscious again?" she asked plainly.

Marlowe shook her head, relieved. "No. He’s conscious, but he needs treatnt. I’m heading to the lab to get the supplies. Want to help?"

Serena nodded wordlessly and fell into step beside her. They walked down the stairs in silence. Marlowe kept waiting for the girl to ask sothing—anything—that would suggest she’d heard what they said upstairs. But Serena didn’t say a word. As ti passed, Marlowe relaxed. If she had heard, she would’ve brought it up by now.

Soon, they were back in Lucian’s bedroom, and the treatnt setup began. Marlowe moved efficiently, inserting the IV and prepping the shot, her movents practiced and smooth. Serena helped where she could, handing her tools and holding things in place when needed. Not a word passed between them that wasn’t strictly necessary.

When it was all done, Serena quietly excused herself and went back downstairs. She returned a few minutes later with a tray of food. It wasn’t much, just sothing warm and easy to eat.

She set it down beside the bed, eyes on him.

"Do you want to feed you?" she asked, her tone neutral.

Lucian’s eyebrows lifted in mild offense. "I can eat by myself," he said with a slight frown, reaching for the tray.

She handed it to him without another word, taking a seat a short distance away, watching as he began to eat slowly. This ti, he didn’t ask her to leave like he usually would.

After a few minutes of silence, Lucian glanced at her. "You’ve been treating nicely ever since I got sick," he said, eyes watching her closely. "Maybe I should stay sick more often if it ans you’ll keep being this nice to ."

Serena rolled her eyes hard and shot him a glare. "Try acting like a normal person for once."

Lucian tilted his head at her, clearly amused despite the fatigue tugging at him. "Do you want to tell you to leave my presence? Because that’s what the normal Lucian would do."

"Never mind," Serena said with a tired sigh. "You were never normal to begin with."

Lucian didn’t respond right away. A quiet chuckle escaped him, barely more than a breath.

The room settled into silence again, this ti not uncomfortable. A strange, fragile truce floated between them, built on exhaustion, unsaid truths, and quiet concern. Neither of them knew how long it would last, but for now, it was enough.