16. Chapter Sixteen Nathan

Chapter Sixteen: Nathan

T hey’d hurt me more than I thought.

I blinked open my eyes, the world a blur of white walls and beeping machines. I was in the infirmary, that much I could piece together. The rest was a haze of fists and feet—my own private beatdown that left me sprawled on the cold ground, then shrouded in darkness.

The pain hit me hard, like a punch to the gut that never stopped. My body was a mess of hurt, and I couldn't tell if the room spun or if it was just my brain doing somersaults.

One thing was clear; I was in bad shape.

As doctors buzzed around me, needles pricked my skin and voices merged into a single drone. But there was something else in the room with us. A chill crept over my spine as I saw her in the corner—the gui po , my mother, a demon. She crouched behind the flurry of white coats, her eyes hollow and glazed white, watching me.

"Ma?" The word caught in my throat, a whisper lost in the clatter of the infirmary.

She didn't speak, didn't move, just kept staring with those empty eyes.

And with every second, she edged closer.

"Stop…" I wanted to shout but managed only a hoarse croak. I tried to lift my hand, to ward her off, but it felt like lifting a sack of bricks. I blinked, praying she'd vanish.

Needles pierced my skin…something cut into me. My body was a bruise.

I slept…and in the darkness, I felt something crawling over my bed, a sensation that had me recoiling in terror. My heart hammered against my ribcage as I tried to fight it off.

I forced my eyes open to find my mother’s dead face inches from mine, her expression twisted in a silent scream.

"Go away!" My voice cracked, not from fear alone but from the rawness of my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing the nightmare would end.

And then, just like that, the weight vanished.

The crawling stopped.

I hesitated before daring to look again. When I opened my eyes, the room was back to its sterile quiet. No ghost hovered above; it had been a sick trick of my mind.

A nurse with a mask was at my bedside now, her hands skillful as she adjusted the IV drip. The liquid inside was probably what was keeping the pain at bay—at least the kind that came from flesh and bone.

It may have been making me hallucinate, too.

That was…less good.

I squinted at her through the haze. There was something about the way she stood, the tilt of her head as she worked on the tubing. Familiarity tugged at the edges of my battered consciousness.

"How are you feeling?" Her voice broke through the fog, speaking in Mandarin, bringing up memories. Those memories ached—memories of a woman speaking Mandarin to an injured child.

My mother…and me.

"Like I got hit by a truck," I muttered back in Mandarin, the words rough and heavy on my tongue.

She chuckled softly. "We're working on that."

My head throbbed as I tried to take in my surroundings. The infirmary was a blur of whites and grays, but I could make out other nurses moving quietly between beds. My eyes drifted to the door where two guards stood like statues. Even shifting my gaze made me wince; my body didn't just ache—it screamed with every heartbeat.

"What happened?" I asked, though I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

The nurse finished with the IV and straightened up, her movements practiced and precise. She didn't answer right away, perhaps weighing how much to tell a patient—or a prisoner.

"They thought you only had minor flesh wounds at first," she finally said, her words matter-of-fact. "But you went into shock. Then we noticed the internal bleeding." She paused. "You took quite a beating."

I tried to sit up, but it was like moving through wet cement. Pain flared, and I dropped back against the pillow with a groan.

"Easy," she chastised gently, pressing a hand on my shoulder to keep me down.

"Have I been here long?" The words were heavy on my lips. "My family—have they been told?"

"Ten hours, maybe," she replied, checking something on a chart. "And yes, your family knows."

"Shit." A curse slipped out before I could stop it. I didn’t want them trying anything to get me out. It was too dangerous. And if they knew I’d been hurt…

Her eyes met mine, a flicker of sternness in them, but it softened as she leaned closer. "Your family sent me," she whispered, voice barely above a breath. "The Sisterhood of Vipers."

That name jolted me more than any drug could. The Sisterhood of Vipers—my mother's legacy, a network of whispers and shadows.

They were the unseen hand, the quiet protectors.

And now, they were here for me.

Her eyes widened just a fraction, and then darted to the door. "Shift change. Don't react." Her voice was calm, but the urgency in it rooted me to the spot. I knew better than to flinch when there were eyes that could be watching.

I lay still as death while my mind raced. She was from the teahouse, the place where Ma used to hold court over steaming cups of jasmine tea. This woman had been one of Ma's confidantes. Recognition dawned on me like a slow sunrise, and with it, a sliver of hope.

"Is help coming?" My voice was raw, the words scratched out of my throat.

"Security's too tight," she murmured, her gaze never leaving mine. "But the insurgents are planning something. They’ll try to help you."

"Does my father know what’s going on?"

She nodded once, the motion barely visible. "He does. But he believes you should get out of this on your own if you want to prove yourself."

A sigh escaped me. At least Ba wasn’t behind this, wasn’t trying to erase his own son. That was something . It meant I wasn't fighting against my blood—not yet.

"Have you heard from Abby and Lily?" I asked, my voice barely more than a hoarse whisper.

Her eyes softened behind the mask, turning kind. "Yes, Nathan, they're safe. Your family is safe."

I took a shuddering breath, relief mingling with so many other emotions that it felt like a dam breaking inside me. Tears, hot and unexpected, spilled down my cheeks, and I couldn't stop them. Maybe it was the drugs pumping through my veins, the pain that held my body in a tight grip, or the sheer weight of everything crashing down on me at once.

"Sorry," I choked out between sobs, feeling both foolish and lost. "I didn't mean to—"

"Shhh." She reached out, her touch light on my arm. "No forgiveness needed, Nathan. You have nothing to apologize for."

"Ma," I managed to say through the tears. "Did she…was she…"

"Your mother," she said, her voice soft but steady, "was very proud of you. She loved you very much."

Her gaze flicked back to the guards by the door, a subtle but sharp movement. "Shift change is over; I have to go."

"Wait," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. The haze from the medication clung to the edges of my thoughts, but I needed this connection, any link to the outside world, to sanity. I reached out, my hand shaky, and caught hers before she could slip away.

"Thank you," I told her, the words thick in my throat. "For everything."

She looked down at our hands, then back into my eyes. "It's the Sisterhood that should be thanking you. Stay strong, Nathan. We hope you will soon replace your father."

Her words hung heavy in the air, a future full of danger and promise. It was a reminder that war was waiting outside these walls…a war that Abby was already embroiled in.

After she’d gone, I lay there, watching the space where she'd been, feeling the weight of her expectation, the Sisterhood's hope, and Ba's cold challenge. Replace him? Sure. Just as soon as I figured out how to get out of this bed without feeling like I was going to pass out from the pain.

But one thing was certain: I wasn't going to let them down. Not the Sisterhood, not Ma, not Lily…

…and not Abby.