Page 141 of His Prince
I watch as he moves into the bedroom, pulling Angel away from Mikhail with a gentleness I don’t possess, and I stare as my son crumbles in his arms.
My chest tightens, my throat constricts.
I turn away and run a hand down my face.
He has to get through this.
He has to.
32
ANGEL
“Angel,” my brother’s voice says.
I blink up at him, wondering if I’m imagining his presence. It’s happened more than once. The hallucinations are getting more common the weaker I get.
When I sleep, I hear Mikhail speaking to me. He comes to me in my dreams. I never want to wake up.
“Angel, you need to eat,” Diablo says, his hands on my face, turning me toward him.
I shake my head, but he insists. And I never could say no to my twin.
He’s stubborn.
With aching muscles, I sit up and he hands me a cup of water. “Drink. You’re no good to Mikhail if you’re dead.”
I don’t even respond, just sip at the water, my stomach growling from hunger. The truth is, I’d rather die with him than continue living with this ache inside of me.
“Now soup,” Diablo says, holding up a spoon to my mouth.
I let him slide it between my lips and reluctantly swallow.
“Good. Keep going.” And I do as he says, eating as much as I can until my stomach protests.
I push his hand away and fall back against Mikhail.
“No. Now you need to get up and bathe,” Diablo says, but I don’t move, just snuggle further into my husband. “Angel.”
“Go away, please,” I murmur, but he doesn’t relent.
“I refuse to let you give up. Casey, get him up,” Diablo orders, and a moment later, strong hands wrestle me upright. I try to fight, but I’m so weak, so tired, that I just collapse into his chest.
“Now, I have a bath ready and you’re going to sit in it, and I’m going to wash you and then we’re going to take a walk outside.”
“I don’t want to.”
“You have to.” His hands fall to my cheeks, holding me steady. “You’re the other half of me, Angel. I’m not losing you.”
With that, I’m brought into the bathroom, stripped down, and helped into the tub. To be honest, it feels nice, the warm water against my skin. Diablo hands me a bar of soap, but then sighs when I don’t take it. Instead, he kneels next to me and starts to scrub at my oily hair.
“This is almost like when we were kids and Aggie would put us in the tub together.”
I meet his stare, and he sighs. “I won’t get in the tub with you this time though. Although you will brush your teeth.”
A toothbrush appears before me, and I absently scrub at my teeth before just swallowing the paste.
Diablo huffs but continues to help me wash, and when he’s finally satisfied that I’m clean, he helps me out of the tub and dries me off. I’m forced into clothes, and with his hand around my waist, we walk through the house. Everyone is lingering, watching me, and I manage a small, weak smile for them, but my heart isn’t behind it.