Scene: Blackwood Imperial Medical Center – Emergency Wing
POV: Nurse Kalari Menzu
You can prepare for everything in the Blackwood Empire.
Combat. Riot control. Emergency protocol for chemical strikes or assassination attempts.
But nothing… and I mean nothing… prepares you for the moment Chris Blackwood is wheeled into your hospital.
Bloodied. Barely conscious.
And surrounded by twenty of the most lethal-looking guards I've ever seen—B.A.M. elites, eyes scanning everything like even the walls could turn traitor.
The double doors blasted open and the hover-gurney came flying in.
> "Vitals dropping—seventy-six over thirty! Internal bleeding suspected. Chest entry wound, no exit!"
I swallowed hard.
This wasn't a patient.
This was the Empire.
And he was bleeding.
I grabbed gloves, snapped them on, and ran to the trauma bay. Doctors shouted over each other—names I'd only heard in training were now operating next to me. One of the best surgeons on the continent was already being patched in remotely.
But I kept my eyes on him.
His chest rose and fell, too slow. His skin was too pale. The pulse line was steady—barely.
But his face?
Still calm.
Still him.
Like even pain was afraid to stay too long in his body.
---
> "Get the stabilizer in now!" one doctor snapped. "I need full imaging! Where the hell is the shrapnel located?!"
> "Nurse Kalari, assist on compression!"
> "Yes, Doctor!" I moved fast, pressing pads against the wound, watching as a line of red soaked through the gauze.
Another nurse leaned over.
> "They said it happened right in front of the Queen."
> "You mean Amara?"
> "Yeah."
We both glanced at each other for just a second.
Because everyone knew…
If Chris Blackwood died…
Amara Blackwood wouldn't just retaliate.
She'd rewrite history.
In blood.
---
I looked down at his face again.
> "He's stabilizing," I whispered to no one in particular.
Because deep down, something in me believed it.
Not because of our medical work.
But because he's Chris.
And death isn't worthy of him.
---