Chapter 361 - Three Hundred And Sixty

Chapter 361: Chapter Three Hundred And Sixty

Damon sat on the soft mattress, resting his back against the tall pillows. His eyes were fixed entirely on Camilla. The tension that had filled his muscles during the doctor’s examination slowly left his body. He looked exhausted, his skin still pale from the severe blood loss, but his eyes were full of tenderness.

He shifted his weight slightly on the mattress. He reached out with his right hand and gently patted the empty space right next to him on the soft sheet. He looked into her eyes, silently signaling for her to join him in the large bed.

Camilla stood by the side of the bed, watching his hand. She felt a sudden wave of fatigue wash over her frame. Her ribs still throbbed with a dull, steady ache, and her head felt heavy from everything that had happened over the past few days.

She reached up with her fingers and untied the thin fabric knot of her outer robe. She slipped the long sleeves off her arms, letting the robe fall softly onto the wooden seat of the chair nearby. Left in only her simple nightgown, she felt small and exposed in the dim room.

Camilla slowly climbed onto the bed. She moved with great care, making sure not to shake the mattress too hard or bump against Damon’s bandaged chest. She pulled her legs up under the blankets and slid into the warm space beside him.

Damon did not wait. As soon as she was within reach, he wrapped his arms gently around her body. He pulled her close to his frame, holding her against his right side. He adjusted his grip so that his forearm rested comfortably across her back, avoiding her injured ribs.

Camilla let out a long, quiet breath that she seemed to have been holding for days. All her sharp defenses, her cold practical thinking, and her constant alertness melted away. She leaned her head sideways, resting her cheek against the solid line of his shoulder. She let her forehead sink into the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his skin mixed with the faint, bitter smell of herbal medicine.

In his arms, she allowed herself to be completely vulnerable. She did not have to pretend to be strong. She did not have to hide her fears or plan her next tactical move. She simply rested her head against his body and listened to the steady, reassuring thud of his heart beating inside his chest.

Damon buried his face into the top of her hair. He inhaled deeply, pressing his lips against the crown of her head. His voice was low and muffled by her soft strands of hair when he spoke.

"I haven’t seen Uncle Murry," Damon said softly, his voice rough and dry from disuse. "Where is he?"

Camilla kept her cheek pressed against his skin. She slowly raised her arms and wrapped them around his torso, holding him tightly while making sure her hands stayed far away from the thick white bandages wrapped around his midsection.

"He’s at the family estate," Camilla replied, keeping her tone calm and gentle. "Grandfather collapsed after hearing what happened to you."

She felt Damon’s body stiffen slightly under her touch. Before he could ask any frantic questions, she quickly continued speaking to ease his worry.

"But don’t worry, he is fine," Camilla reassured him. "The doctor checked him, and he just needs proper rest. Uncle Murry is looking after him at the estate right now to make sure he takes his medicine."

She paused, waiting for his reaction. She expected him to ask more questions or demand to leave the bed to check on his family, but there was no angry outburst or sudden movement.

Damon remained quiet. A deep, heavy sadness settled over his face. His eyes turned dark with guilt, realizing that his near-death had caused so much suffering for the people he loved.

He slowly pulled back from the embrace, taking his arms off her shoulders. He reached down with his right hand and gently lifted her small hand into his palm. He held her fingers with care, as if she were made of thin glass. He lowered his head and pressed his warm lips against the skin of her knuckles, holding the kiss there for a long, quiet moment.

He looked up at her, his gaze steady and filled with affection.

"I’m glad he is fine," Damon said, his voice soft and full of relief. "When I’m all better, we will go and visit him together."

Camilla looked into his eyes and gave him a gentle nod. "Yes. We will go together."

Damon kept hold of her hand, his thumb lightly stroking the smooth back of her fingers. His forehead creaked slightly as a sudden thought crossed his mind. He looked at her closely, his eyes searching her face.

"What happened that day?" Damon asked, his tone turning serious and quiet. "How did I survive?"

The simple question hung in the air between them like a very heavy weight.

Camilla’s heart gave a sudden, nervous thud. Her mind immediately began to spin, looking for a believable excuse or a clever story to hide the truth. She did not want to talk about the strange iron weapon, the strange powder, or the medical knowledge she had used to keep him alive.

She thought to herself, "What do I tell him? How do I bring myself to tell him without him thinking I’m crazy?"

She kept her mouth shut, her lips pressed together into a tight line. Her body went tense in his hands, her fingers twitching slightly within his grip as panic began to settle into her chest.

Damon felt the sudden tension in her muscles. He saw the flicker of fear and hesitation in her wide eyes. He did not want her to feel trapped or scared of him.

He moved closer to her once again, wrapping his arms around her frame and pulling her back into a warm, safe embrace. He rested his chin on top of her head, stroking her back in long, soothing motions. He knew that if he wanted her to open her heart completely, he had to be the one to take the first brave step.

He spoke softly against her hair, his voice filled with gentle certainty.

"I know you are not Camilla."