Isabella Tpn Novels & Stories

Switching to broken Chinese, the doctor added, “She’s very weak and severely malnourished. You should make her nourishing soups—chicken or pigeon broth with red dates and goji berries for her blood.” Theodore's expression grew heavier as images of Isabella, sickly and overworked, flashed in his mind. He recalled how she stayed up late drafting designs and gave him the nutritious food while she endured her own suffering in silence. How could someone be so selfless, so pure - hearted, yet so foolish? The thought made his chest ache, and his werewolf protectiveness flared up. When Isabella was transferred to a general ward, she slowly woke up. Finding herself in a hospital bed, she weakly asked

“I’m doing everything, everything, to make sure you’re okay.” Her mother’s fingers curled weakly around hers, a silent thank you, a silent I’m trying. Isabella felt her breath hitch. She kissed her knuckles again and again, letting her tears fall freely. A nurse walked in, adjusting the IV bag, and gave Isabella a small sympathetic smile. “She’s stable today,” the nurse said softly. Isabella nodded, though her eyes never left her mother’s face. “Thank you.” When the nurse left, Isabella exhaled shakily and looked at her mother again.

"Were you unconscious at all?" "Tanya said that I was, for a little while," Bella answered. Luke looked at her, concerned. "I'll just check your eyes," Ian said, using a penlight to check her pupils. "Looks good, then," he said. He checked her other vitals before reaching into his bag and removing some supplies. "You're dehydrated. I'd like to give you intravenous fluids. Would that be alright?" Bella nodded assent. Ian prepared her right arm, effortlessly inserting the needle and starting the drip. "Would you mind holding the bag for a moment?" he asked Luke. "I'll see if there's something in Ed's bag to hold it for the duration."

They passed heavily armed Vanguard operatives who immediately snapped to attention as Nikolai walked by, though their eyes lingered warily on Isabella's blood-soaked form. They reached the intensive care unit at the end of the hall. The room was separated by a wall of thick, reinforced glass. Isabella pressed her trembling hands against the cold glass. On the other side, Julian lay motionless on a hospital bed, a terrifying array of tubes and wires connecting his massive body to a wall of beeping monitors. A ventilator breathed for him, forcing oxygen into his lungs. The apex predator who had torn through fire and bullets for her looked horrifyingly vulnerable.

Isabella's body was feeling hot, and her fever was rising. "She wouldn't have made it this far; it's worsening, but don't worry, I've got what she needs; this will help her; come on, help her sleep on her back; I need to administer this right under her collarbone." She said quietly, and they assisted Isabella. Cassandra took the syringe and pulled some of the blood from the container, injecting part of it through her body while she groaned in pain.

"It's not on a whim, nor do I want to keep them here in hospital for the sake of it, but as you can see, their lips are still slightly blue, as are their fingernails and toenails." "All right, doctor. We have those symptoms too, Marta more so than me," Isabella says. "Can you arrange for us to stay together?" "I'll sort it out. Let me examine you," the doctor assures them, focusing on his work. Isabella is the first to volunteer for the examination, knowing Marta is reluctant. Eventually, Marta allows him to check her. He immediately sends her to change into warm pyjamas and tells her to lie down, hooking her up to an IV. He then turns to Santiago.

"I don't care. Let me—" "No." Isabella's voice in the background. Then she took the phone. "Dante. I told you. No contact. Your voice will set her back. Undo the work." "I need to hear her. Need to know she's—" "She's breathing. Eating. Following commands. That's all you need to know." Isabella's voice was firm. "Give me the two weeks. Trust the process." "I can't—" "You can. You will." Isabella hung up.