assistirfilmes Chapter 10: Blind
Chapter 10: Blind
Chapter 10: Blind
Where will he sleep tonight if not here? Why would I even care? The soft knock at the door pulled Athena from her thoughts. I need to dig up some information about him.
She had spent hours scouring Starnet, searching for any mention of the major general's blindness, but her efforts had yielded nothing.
His condition was clearly a well-guarded secret, hidden from both the media and the public eye. It was another puzzle piece in the enigma that was Mors Jericho.
When the door creaked open, Athena glanced up and froze. Standing in the doorway was the major general, clad in simple yet elegant sleepwear.
The soft fabric of his shirt clung to his toned physique, the faint outline of his defined muscles and chiseled abs visible beneath.
Her pulse quickened, and she inwardly chastised herself. Focus, Athena. You're not here to ogle at the ghost or your new husband...
Despite his apparent visual impairment, Mors entered the room with a demeanor of quiet dominance and moved with ease.
"Why are you still awake, wife?" he asked, his deep voice breaking the silence.
He really dared to call me wife? Athena quickly masked her thoughts and shifted to the side, making room for him on the bed.
She tried to appear nonchalant as she answered, "It is the duty of a wife to wait for her husband."
Mors quirked an eyebrow, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
He crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight.
"That sounds more like a line from a drama than something you'd say," he remarked, his tone amused yet laced with curiosity.
Don't talk as if you've watched any of the shows under my name. Athena shrugged lightly, leaning back against the headboard. "Perhaps it is. But it's fitting, isn't it?"
For a moment, there was silence between them. Athena stole a glance at him, noting how relaxed he seemed despite their awkward circumstances.
She wondered if he sensed the tension lingering in the air or if he had grown so accustomed to hiding his emotions that it didn't faze him.
Mors turned his head slightly in her direction as if he could see through the darkness. "Do you make it a habit to wait up for people, or am I special?"
First, she turned to the room's environmental controls, cranking up the temperature to combat the bone-chilling cold that seemed to radiate from him.
The hum of the heater filled the silence, but the warmth wasn't working fast enough.
Returning to his side, she carefully examined his body, searching for any signs of external wounds, swelling, discoloration, or inflammation, but there was nothing.
No visible entry point for a toxin, and no clue as to what had caused this sudden attack. Frustration bubbled within her.
With no external injuries to address, Athena resorted to the most basic form of care she could think of.
She bundled him tightly in the thick blankets, hoping to trap what little warmth he had left. Her hands hovered above him for a moment, uncertainty and fear gnawing at her resolve.
This isn't enough. He's getting worse.
Mors's lips moved again, his voice faint, but she couldn't make out the words.
She leaned closer, desperate to understand, but all she caught were fragments, disjointed and meaningless.
What is this? A recurring condition? A military injury? Or something more sinister? Her assassin's mind raced, piecing together the fragments of what she knew about him.
This man, her unanticipated spouse, was a prominent major general and a representation of power and authority.
And yet here he was, helpless against something she had not yet been able to identify.
Determination strengthening her resolve, she clenched her hands. She would figure out the remedy if this was poison. But I doubt he would let me help him.
And if this was some mysterious illness, she would discover its cause. For now, she had to keep him stable. "Mors, stay with me," she whispered.
All of a sudden, Mors stirred. His icy hand reached out, fumbling in the air until it found hers. His grip was surprisingly strong for someone in such a dire state.
Before she could react, he pulled her into a fierce embrace.
Damn it!