The Luna Queen's Rebirth (Ellie and Dominic) novel Chapter 135

Chapter 135

Ellie POV

I don’t need the wheelchair.

That’s the thing I keep telling myself as it in it, fingers pressed hard to my temple while the ache behind my eyes pulses like it has a heartbeat of its own. I can stand, I can walk. I can even pretend I’m fine for short bursts if I really want to.

But the pain doesn’t care about pride.

It creeps in slow, ssettling heavy in my skull, dragging nausea through my stomach until everything feels slightly tilted, like the world forgot how to sit straight. After days of this, it’s just easier not to fight it. Easier to sit. Easier to let the chair carry me instead of wasting energy I don’t have.

Lucas has…been a big help. Wheeling me around, but he’s… persistent, overly on me and it meakes me feel

like I’ll never get better.

Even now, I sent him away for lunch for just a break. But alone, my healer thoughts won’t shut up.

There has to be a solution. An answer.

An aneurysm? Blood clot? Some mystery illness no one’s caught yet? Because I can’t even handle a basic scan or test on myself without feeling like my head might split open. The word dying slips in more than I’d

like to admit.

Sometimes I feel that wave of death, like the first time. It’s cold, and all consuming, then your gone for a moment, or fade in and out.

No way after everything I get taken out by some mystery illness.

I’m staring at my lunch on my lap, just a pitiful stack of crackers. It’s all I can keep down. When the pain suddenly-

just… stops.

Not eases. Not dulls.

Stops.

୮

I blink, lifting my head slowly, like if I move too fast it’ll snap back into place and punish me for noticing. My vision clears. The nausea fades. My shoulders loosen without me telling them to.

“What the-”

My chair moves.

I yelp, twisting around so fast it nearly makes me dizzy again. “Hey!”

Dominic?

He’s behind me, hands steady on the handles like he’s done this before. Calm. Not smirking.

“Get off my chair,” I snap, reflex more than intention. “What are you doing?”

+30 Bonus

“Relax,” he says easily. “Lucas asked me to keep an eye of you for a bit.”

I stare at him. “He what?

“He asked,” Dominic repeats. “For me to take over for a bit. So I am, besides, what’s up with you? One day your near smacking me, the next your in a wheelchair?”

“If I knew you think I’d be here?” I mutter.

But I don’t actually fight him.

I don’t have the energy, and worse, part of me is still trying to figure out why my head feels… fine. Suspiciously fine. Like someone turned the volume down without warning.

He pushes me toward the lunch room without another word, and he sits, placing my chair next to him. He goes and gets two trays, soups and a sandwich.

“I can’t eat it,” I say folding my arms as he sits. “I get sick.”

He tilts his head. “Seem fine to me.”

I blink.

He’s right. I do feel fine. And…I’m hungry. I eat, for what feels like the frist time in days, but halfway through eating, my hand betrays me.

It starts to shake, subtle, fingers trembling like they’ve forgotten how to behave. I guess not everything was

dulled.

That’s all he says. My name. Low. Steady.

Annoyingly effective.

I bit my lip. “Fine.” I growl.

He helps me to my feet. To the stall.

From there, I kick him out. Of the bathroom. He sighs saying hearing me pee won’t kill him and I threw the toitlet paper roll at his head before he left.

The entire day goes on.

Through classes. Through awkward silences. Through moments where I forget he’s there and moments where I’m painfully aware of every inch of space between us. He doesn’t hover, but he doesn’t leave either. When he helps, it’s quiet. When I snap, he lets it slide.

And the worst part that isn’t adding up?

I feel better when he’s close.

Not cured. Not suddenly healthy. But much better. Like my body remembers how to work when he’s within arm’s reach. The pain doesn’t vanish completely, but it dulls.

And he’s…different too. He’s calm. Like, unnervingly so. This isn’t the Dominic who snarls in hallways or fills rooms with tension just by standing in them. This Dominic moves like he’s learned what fragile is and that the situation needs it, and he adjusted himself accordingly

When he steps away, just briefly, to get water, and the pain slams back in like it’s been waiting.

And my theory is all but confirmed.

By the time he returns, I’m gripping the arm of my chair, breath shallow, vision blurring again.

“You alright?” He asks, his hand feeling like a lifeline on my shoulder.

“Yeah,” I steady, my lungs lighter. “Yeah, thanks,”

We lock eyes and just as quick, look away.

2/4