Chapter 359 - Three Hundred And Fifty Eight

Chapter 359: Chapter Three Hundred And Fifty Eight

Camilla stood up abruptly, the chair scrapping against the floor with a scratching sound. She froze where she stood near her desk. Her shoulders went stiff, and the quiet yawn that had been forming on her lips vanished in an instant. Her heart gave a hard, sudden thud inside her chest, beating so fast it made her feel breathless.

The voice had been faint, raspy, and barely louder than a breath, but she knew that voice better than her own name.

Slowly, Camilla turned her body away from the desk. Her bare feet made no sound against the thick rug as she took a tentative step forward. The spacious bedroom was dark, save for the single oil lamp flicker casting long, warm shadows across the floorboards.

She walked slowly towards the big canopy bed situated on the far side of the room. Her hands hung nervously by her sides, her fingers twitching with uncertainty. With every step she took, her mind raced with fear and hope.

She saw a faint shadow moving under the linen blankets. A tall figure was slowly pushing himself up, using his elbows to lift his upper body from the soft pillows.

Camilla stopped a few paces away from the bed. Her breathing became fast and shallow. She stared at the bed in disbelief, her eyes wide with caution and hope.

She thought to herself, "I hope I’m not imagining it again. I hope I am not seeing things again."

On the bed, Damon shifted his weight, his chest rising and falling with visible effort.

Hearing the familiar, chaotic rush of thoughts in her mind, a soft, warm chuckle escaped his lips. The sound was rough and dry, but it was filled with deep affection.

He thought to himself, "It’s good to hear them again. I missed those stubborn voices in my head."

Damon looked straight at her through the dim candlelight. His eyes, though tired and heavy from days of unconsciousness, shone with warmth as he fixed his gaze on her face.

Damon called out to her again.

"Camilla."

His voice was weak, but the sound of it sent a wave of heat straight to her heart. A slow, familiar smirk spread across his pale face, curving his lips up at the corner.

"I’m a bit thirsty," he said softly, his chest moving as he took a shallow breath. "My throat is parched."

The moment the words left his mouth, all of Camilla’s caution dissolved into nothingness. Any lingering doubt or fear disappeared instantly.

Camilla threw her arms around him, gasping in joy as a loud, tearful squeal escaped her throat. She sank onto the mattress and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, pulling him as close as she possibly could. She buried her face into the side of his neck, smelling the familiar scent of his skin beneath the medicinal bandages.

Without giving him a single second to recover, she began to rain his face with a thousand kisses. She pressed her lips urgently against his forehead, his cheeks, his sharp nose, his jawline, and his chapped lips over and over again. Her tears began to spill over her eyelashes, dropping onto his skin like warm rain.

Damon leaned into her touch, his body relaxing completely under her frantic affection. His lungs felt tight, and her weight against his upper body made it so he could barely breathe, but he did not care in the slightest. He wrapped his weak arms around her back, burying his face into her hair, preferring to die that way in her embrace rather than live another second without her.

"Oh, thank goodness," Camilla finally said when she stopped her kiss attack.

She pulled back just enough to look at his face, her hands remaining cupped around his cheeks. Her palms felt warm against his pale skin. She wiped her wet cheeks with the back of her wrist, letting out a watery laugh that shook her small frame.

She quickly swung her legs off the edge of the mattress and stood up. She walked over to the desk, picked up the pitcher with both hands, and carefully poured cold water into the clear glass. She brought the glass back to the bed, sitting down on the edge of the mattress and gently resting her hand behind his neck to support him.

Damon took the glass from her hands, his fingers brushing against hers. He brought the rim to his dry lips and drank it hungrily. He emptied the entire glass in long, desperate gulps, a few stray drops of water trickling down his chin and falling onto his bare chest.

When he was finished, he let out a long sigh of relief. Camilla took the empty glass from his grip and placed it down on the small side table next to the bed.

She looked at his pale skin, noting the faint blue shadows under his eyes and the slight tremor in his hands. Panic began to replace her initial wave of joy.

"I need to call doctor Aris," Camilla spoke, her tone turning urgent.

She stood up from the bed again, smoothing down the front of her nightgown as she prepared to leave the room.

"He needs to do a follow..."

Her sentence was cut short when Damon reached out his right hand, his fingers wrapping gently around her wrist. His grip was not strong, but the sudden touch stopped her in her tracks.

He looked up at her from the bed, his eyes full of quiet pleading.

"Don’t go," he whispered, his voice soft and tender. "Please?"

Camilla looked down at his holding hand, then back up at his handsome, tired face. The tension in her shoulders melted away instantly, replaced by an overwhelming wave of fondness.

Camilla gave him a warm, gentle smile. "Fine. I’ll call for a maid."

She leaned over to the bedside table, picked up a small brass handbell, and shook it three times. The clear, metallic ringing sound echoed softly through the quiet halls of the mansion.

She set the bell back down and waited by his side. A few minutes passed before a soft knock sounded against the door frame.

The door creaked open, and a young maid stepped into the room. The girl’s eyes were heavy and sleepy, her hair slightly messy under her white cap, and her movements were wobbly as she struggled to stay upright in the middle of the night.

"How can I be of service, my lady?" the maid asked. She bowed her head low, her shoulders slumping as she covered her mouth to suppress a wide yawn.

Camilla turned to face her, her face glowing with unmistakable happiness.

Camilla spoke, "Call for doctor Aris immediately. My husband is awake."

The simple sentence hit the room like a sudden clap of thunder. Sleep instantly vanished from the maid’s eyes. Her eyelids flew wide open, and her posture straightened up as if she had just been splashed with cold water.

She stared at the bed, her mouth slightly open in shock.

"Lord Damon is awake?" The maid thought to herself, her mind racing with surprise. "No wonder the lady is so vibrant and happy."

The maid quickly raised her head, a look of genuine excitement washing over her pale face.

"I will do that right away, my lady!" she exclaimed softly. She bowed deeply once more, turned on her heel, and hurried out into the hallway, her quick footsteps fading down the corridor.