Her Birthday His Forbidden Desire novel Chapter 33

**Twilight Carves Destinies by George Orwell 33**

**Chapter 23**

Sloane found herself utterly immobilized, her hands and feet bound tightly, leaving her powerless to escape the dire situation. In that moment of despair, she squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to block out the grim reality surrounding her.

It was then that she noticed Declan, dragging himself toward her with painstaking effort, inching along the filthy floor as if every movement required monumental strength. In a corner, he had discovered a discarded gas mask, a relic of a world gone awry, and with what little energy remained, he managed to place it over her face.

“Declan… if you do this, you’ll die…” she gasped, her voice trembling with fear and desperation.

As her hands instinctively tried to push him away, she was surprised to find tears streaming down her cheeks, glistening in the dim light. One tear fell onto his fingers like a fragile promise. He brushed it away tenderly, his lips curving into a faint, weary smile. “But you’ll live,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

In that moment, the complexity of human emotion surged forth, revealing the maddening contradictions that reside within us. Love and hatred, disgust and longing—they were all intertwined in a chaotic dance, breathing life into the most profound of connections.

Years would pass, yet Sloane would never fully grasp the significance of that single tear, nor could she decipher the depths of her feelings for him.

Suddenly, a dense cloud of toxic gas began to seep into the air, thick and suffocating, wrapping around them like a sinister shroud. Declan slumped to the floor beside her, his strength finally giving out, and silence enveloped them. Panic surged within Sloane as she reached out, shaking him gently, her voice a desperate whisper. “Declan! Please, stay with me! Just a little longer…”

Then, cutting through the haze of despair, the faint yet unmistakable sound of sirens pierced the air outside the warehouse.

Time lost all meaning for Sloane as darkness swallowed her whole. When she finally emerged from her unconscious state, she found herself nestled in a hospital bed, disoriented and confused.

Her fingers twitched as she attempted to move, and the sight of Devlin standing nearby sent her heart racing. She bolted upright, panic flooding her senses.

“Don’t be scared,” he urged, moving swiftly to steady her trembling form. “It’s over now. You’re safe. Declan is alive, but he inhaled too much of that toxic gas. His organs are damaged significantly, but he will survive—though he will face permanent complications.”

For the first time since that harrowing day, Sloane truly grasped the weight of survival, the bittersweet taste of continuing to breathe.

“That day…” she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

Devlin sighed heavily, the burden of the past evident in his eyes. “I was the one who called the police. I couldn’t reach you; your phone was off. It took everything I had to pull some strings, but we managed to trace your location just in time.”

Sloane remained in the hospital for a week, each day a mix of hope and anxiety. On the day of her discharge, she learned that Declan had just regained consciousness in the ICU.

Chapter 23

With a heavy heart, she made her way to see him.

A delicate bouquet of white bellflowers rested quietly on the bedside table, their soft petals a stark contrast to the sterile surroundings. Sloane paused, taking in the sight before she spoke. “Your body still needs time to heal. Once you’re stable, Devlin’s team will arrange for your return to Riverstone.”

“Will I… see you again?” His voice was hoarse, each word seeming to scrape against his throat, laden with unspoken fears.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify