Veil Bed Hospital Novels & Stories

Nurses like her kept disappearing every day. Luckily It didn't take me long to find Blake. The butler had his room number on that piece of paper and he was lucky to have a room of his own unlike the others who I saw sharing a bed, lying on the cold tiled floor and groaning in pain. Blake was lying on an adjustable patients bed, wearing blue robes. The bleeping sounds from the oxygen support machine and that of his heart rate were so saddening. His face and hands were bruised and his lung was covered with a bandage.

Sheer curtains screened the sunlight, giving a lovely glow to the sumptuous king-sized. A state-of-the-art monitoring system tracked her vital signs, while a dedicated nurse station offered continual attention. There is a luxury lounge space, with a flat-screen TV and a minibar filled with refreshments. Discreetly positioned security entries offered the greatest privacy and safety. Every element demonstrates the hospital's commitment to delivering superior care for its most respected patients. Caleb’s thoughtfulness and affluence transforms Melanie’s rehabilitation environment into a quiet paradise. After Melanie is well situated in her room, Caleb is permitted into the room to see her so he

I breathed out, and then my nerves were a bit calm. I opened the door and stepped inside. The room was large and luxurious, with a big bed in the center. The bed was covered in silk sheets, and the walls were adorned with expensive artwork. I slowly moved closer into the room and I let out a deep breath, glad that Alpha Felix wasn’t in the room. I had rejoiced too soon because as I took a step closer to the room, I saw a naked woman lying on the couch on the other side of the room, and my eyes widened in shock.

Roseline POV. I woke up in a large bed. It was so soft and fluffy that I didn't want to get up, but I had to, mainly because I remembered I didn't own a bed this comfortable. So where the hell was I? Was I in a monastery? I opened my eyes and found I was in a large room, and the curtains blocked out any form of light. The room wasn't brightly lit enough but lit enough to see. There were dark shadows in every corner, and the only source of light was the fire burning in the fireplace. The room was richly decorated. I hurried off the bed to the window. I pulled back the curtain, intending to let in light because I assumed it was bright out, but instead, I was met with darkness and void.

An ambulance tore around a curve in the mountain, nearly veering off the road in its haste. Layla White. White all around. I blinked, trying to push away all that damn white, but even as my vision started to clear, to focus, the white didn’t retreat. Oh. It was because I was literally in a white room. Ceiling, walls, the blind pulled down over the little window. Tile floor … Even the narrow bed— Shit. The bed. The blanket. My hand laid atop it, stuck with a needle and bound in a hospital bracelet. I traced the line from the needle to the blinking machine over my left shoulder.

I nursed my heard, trying to soothe the pain, but instead, my fingers smeared a liquid around my forehead. By the aesthetics of the room, I could tell it belonged to a female. I was first greeted by the scent of vanilla. A bed with led lights and fake leaf plants above it was against the wall, and the sheets were pulled tight with a green duvet neatly arranged on it. The window had thick royal blue curtains, slightly opened, giving room for a few rays of sunshine to cascade into the room, shining down on the porcelain tiles.

The Castle of the Veil, also known as the Veil Warden Academy, is a beautiful place, which is completely opposite to everything we’ve been taught our entire lives. It’s styled and decorated in the Renaissance era, and the courtyards are beautifully kept sitting areas. The entire vibe of the place is live and let live but respect each other. What in the feck is wrong with that? Why all the stories? Nothing I was taught from kindergarten to graduation is true. Why did they feel they needed to play all the cloak and dagger games? I am so confused but mostly, I’m angry as hell about losing my mate.

The faint chirping of birds outside pulled me from my restless sleep. My eyes fluttered open to the soft morning light filtering through the heavy velvet curtains. For a moment, I didn’t recognize where I was. The ceiling above me was too high, the bed too soft, the room too grand. Then it all came rushing back—the wedding, the vows, the suffocating weight of it all. I was in Alexander’s home now. No, not just a home. A mansion. A palace disguised as a house.

“You’re up early.” “So are you.” Her gaze skimmed over my height before shifting upward. The still-weaving shimmer hung lazy and distorted above East Tower. Undetectable by most. Not her. “You feel that?” Her question was a statement. “The wards?” I coughed. “No.” Her voice was flat. “The matrix webbing through them. Containment classes. Tricky. Thornveil patterns.” My chest tightened. “I haven’t seen—“ “Save it.” Her voice wasn’t mean. It was… kind.

“You’ll see for yourself. Body’s at the morgue.” The morgue was nothing like the facilities she was used to. A single-room basement beneath the sheriff’s office, dimly lit, the air heavy with disinfectant that only half-masked the metallic tang of blood. The body lay on a table beneath a sheet. Evelyn pulled on gloves, her movements methodical, controlled. She lifted the sheet. Tom Greeley stared up at her with glassy eyes, his face frozen in a rictus of terror. His torso was a ruin of torn flesh and jagged lacerations, ribs snapped like twigs. Evelyn leaned closer, tracing the pattern of the wounds.