Matilda Anderson's pov
When I woke again, the room was quiet, the flickering glow of the lantern still casting soft shadows on the walls. For a moment, I felt disoriented, my mind struggling to piece together where I was. But then, I felt the warmth beside me the steady, protective presence of Marco.
His hand was still wrapped around mine, his grip firm even in sleep. He sat in a chair beside the bed, his massive frame slightly slouched, his other arm resting on the mattress. His long, dark lashes contrasted against his sharp features, making him look almost peaceful. Almost. Even in sleep, there was tension in his body, his grip on me possessive, as if he was afraid I'd disappear.
I stared at him, my heart clenching. No one had ever watched over me like this before. No one had ever stayed.
A slight shift in my position sent a dull ache through my leg, and I sucked in a breath. Marco's eyes snapped open instantly, glowing gold in the dim light. His gaze locked onto me, sharp and alert.
"You're awake," he murmured, his voice deep and rough from sleep.
I nodded weakly. "I didn't mean to wake you."
His thumb brushed over my knuckles, his expression softening. "You didn't. How do you feel?"
"Sore," I admitted, my voice small. "But… better, I think."
Marco's jaw tightened slightly, as if the thought of my pain alone was enough to infuriate him. He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. The simple gesture made my chest tighten.
"I had the pack doctor leave more pain medicine in case you need it," he said. "But you should eat first."
I blinked. "Eat?"
He stood, towering over me as he moved toward a small tray on the bedside table. I hadn't even noticed it before, but now the sight of food made my stomach twist. When was the last time I'd eaten?
Marco returned to my side, setting the tray in front of me. There was warm broth, bread, and some fruit. Simple, but comforting.
I hesitated. "I… I don't know if I can."
Marco's gaze softened, but there was no room for argument. "You need to eat, little one. Just a few bites."
His voice was firm, but gentle. I knew he wouldn't force me, but I also knew he wouldn't let me get away with not taking care of myself.
Swallowing, I reached for the spoon, but before I could lift it, Marco took it from me.
I frowned. "I can—"
"Let me," he said, his voice leaving no room for debate.
Heat rose to my cheeks as he scooped up a spoonful of broth and brought it to my lips. I hesitated before finally allowing him to feed me. The warmth spread through me, soothing in a way I hadn't expected.
"Good," he murmured approvingly, offering another spoonful.
I ate slowly, letting him take care of me in a way no one ever had before. Each bite felt like something more than just food it felt like safety, like care.
When I had eaten enough, Marco set the tray aside and brushed his fingers over my cheek. "That's enough for now. You should rest again."
I should have felt embarrassed, but all I felt was warmth. I nodded slightly, my eyelids growing heavy again.
Marco tucked the blanket around me, his presence grounding me. As I drifted back into sleep, his deep voice reached me, soft but full of promise.
"You're mine now, Matilda," he murmured. "And I'll never let anyone hurt you again."
I didn't know how long I slept, but when I woke again, the room was no longer dim. Soft morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a golden glow across the walls. The warmth beside me was still there Marco hadn't left.
He sat in the chair beside the bed, his large frame radiating strength even in stillness. His golden eyes were fixed on me the moment I stirred, like he had never really stopped watching.
"Good morning, little one," he said, his deep voice sending a shiver through me.
I blinked, still groggy. "Morning… You stayed?"
His expression darkened slightly, like the question itself irritated him. "Of course, I stayed. Did you really think I'd leave you alone after what happened?"
I swallowed, my throat dry. "I just. I'm not used to"
Marco leaned in, his warm hand cupping my cheek, silencing my words. "Get used to it," he said firmly. "I'm not going anywhere, Matilda. Not now. Not ever."
The intensity in his voice made my chest tighten. No one had ever spoken about me like that before like I was someone worth staying for.
His thumb brushed over my cheek, and I melted into his touch without thinking. But then, I shifted slightly, and pain flared through my leg, reminding me of everything that had happened. I let out a small whimper, and Marco's jaw clenched instantly.
"The pain is still bad?" he asked, his tone laced with concern.
I nodded weakly. "It's better than before, but. yeah."
He let out a low growl, his frustration evident. "That bastard will suffer for this."
There it was again the sheer fury burning beneath his calm exterior. He wasn't just angry; he was seething, barely holding back his rage. And part of me knew that if Samuel were in front of him right now, he wouldn't live to see another day.
I reached for his hand without thinking, gripping it tightly. "Marco…"
His gaze snapped back to mine, and instantly, the anger in his eyes softened. He exhaled, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he squeezed my hand in return. "I'm here," he murmured.
A knock at the door made me tense, but Marco didn't move away from me. Instead, he called out, "Come in."
The door opened, and the pack doctor stepped inside, carrying a small bag. His eyes immediately landed on me. "Good, you're awake. How are you feeling?"
"Sore," I admitted. "But better."
He nodded approvingly as he stepped closer. "That's a good sign. Let's check your leg and make sure everything is healing as it should."
Marco still hadn't let go of my hand, and I held onto him like a lifeline as the doctor carefully unwrapped the bandages. When my leg was exposed, I winced at the sight. The bruising was deep, ugly shades of purple and blue, and just looking at it made my stomach twist.
Marco growled lowly beside me, his grip tightening on my hand. "He did this to you," he muttered, his voice full of barely restrained fury.
Marco's eyes flashed, but he said nothing.
The doctor continued his examination, his fingers pressing gently against my skin. I flinched slightly, but the pain wasn't as sharp as before. "The swelling has gone down, and there's no sign of infection," he said. "You're healing well, but you'll still need to stay off this leg for a while."
I nodded, feeling relieved but also frustrated. "How long?"
Marco must have sensed my thoughts because he squeezed my hand again. "Don't worry about that right now," he murmured. "Just focus on resting."
The doctor rewrapped my leg, then handed Marco a small vial. "This is for the pain. Just a few drops in water should help. She needs rest, food.