The Divorced Military Queen Awakens (by Sadie Baxter) novel Chapter 567

567 Follow Her Into the Dark

Laura doubled over, coughing violently the moment Julius released his grip. The cold air scraped harshly down her throat, each ragged breath sparking another relentless fit. Her lungs burned with every inhale, as if shards of glass were lodged deep inside.

“Are you okay?” Gavin asked, stepping closer, concern etching deep lines into his face.

“I’m fine,” Laura replied, though the words tasted bitter—like iron mixed with regret.

His eyes flicked to the dark bruise blossoming across her neck. “He really lost control back there. Julius loves Quinn so fiercely that logic just… disappeared.”

Laura’s gaze shifted toward Julius, who now stood alone beneath the corridor’s unforgiving white lights. His eyes were hollow, fixed on the sealed emergency room doors as if his very soul was trapped behind them.

In that moment, a chilling certainty gripped Laura’s heart: if Quinn didn’t survive, Julius would willingly follow her into the darkness.

Minutes dragged on, stretching endlessly until the heavy double doors finally creaked open.

Julius sprang forward like an arrow loosed from a bow. His voice trembled as he grabbed the doctor’s sleeve. “How is my wife?”

The doctor’s face was grave but steady. “The impact caused a placental abruption. We’ve stabilized the baby, but both mother and child need to be under observation for at least three days.”

Relief flooded through Julius, Gavin, and Laura, washing away some of the tension that had coiled tightly inside them.

“She’s sedated for now. We’ll move her to a private room shortly. She should awaken in a few hours,” the doctor added gently.

Soon, Quinn lay in a quiet, private suite. An IV drip was threaded through her pale wrist, and her eyelids remained closed, resting over skin as white and delicate as linen.

Julius took his place beside her bed, barely daring to blink, as if shutting his eyes might invite disaster. He had moved mountains to protect her, yet calamity had slipped through his defenses regardless.

That moment mocked him, whispering cruelly that some fates refuse to be bent, no matter how fiercely one fights.

“I don’t understand, Quinn,” Julius murmured, voice thick with anguish. “Why do you protect others at your own cost? If something had happened to you, what would become of me? Should I lock you beside me, never letting you go? That might keep you safe, but it would steal your joy—and I promised to be the one who makes you smile.”

He longed only for her happiness, terrified she might fade away like his mother had—trapped in a cage of sorrow and silence, a songbird that forgot its own melody.

“Please, tell me—how do I keep you safe?”

Only silence answered, broken by the soft hiss of machines and the faint rustle of sterile air.

In the hallway, Gavin caught Laura’s arm gently. “Stay out of there. What if Julius loses it again?”

“But I need to see Quinn,” Laura protested, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I can help.” Gavin took the tube from her hand and led her to a quiet corner just beyond the automatic doors, moving with such natural ease it felt like the most ordinary thing in the world.

A flush rose to Laura’s cheeks, but she didn’t protest. She tilted her chin upward, exposing the delicate line of her neck so he could carefully tend to the bruise.

“By the way,” Gavin murmured as he smoothed the ointment over her skin, “I hope you’ll forgive Julius for today. He cares about Quinn so much that—”

“I understand,” Laura interrupted with a faint, crooked smile. “I dragged Quinn into this mess after all. I don’t blame Julius. Right now, I just want her and the baby to be safe.”

“They will be,” Gavin said quietly, conviction steady in his voice. “Quinn is strong. If the pregnancy has stabilized, everything should turn out okay.”

Even knowing half his reassurance was meant to comfort her, Laura felt some of the tension ease from her shoulders.

“Thank you for today,” she said softly. “If you hadn’t held Julius back, I’d probably be on a gurney right now.”

“Anyone would’ve done the same.” Gavin capped the tube and handed it back. “Use it twice a day. Don’t forget.”

Laura nodded, murmured her thanks, and turned toward the hospital’s main entrance. The harsh fluorescent lights of the lobby seemed to slide off her shoulders as she stepped out into the cool night air.

Gavin pivoted and strode back toward the inpatient wing, his footsteps steady and purposeful.