Why Is Elena Throwing Up Blood Mga Nobela at Kwento

She'd probably hate to see us, especially after what went down today. When Jake bolted to the pack hospital, cradling Elena who was out cold, not a second passed before we all trailed behind. Her once flawless honeyed skin now marred by burns and marks haunted our thoughts. We'd attempted to diffuse the tension earlier knowing full well of Alice's envy towards Elena. But by the time we arrived, the damage was done... It must have been agonizing for her, wouldn't it? Did she deserve any of it? Maybe not... or maybe yes?

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. When you changed your identity and become another person you aren’t discreet enough to look into minute details like hiding your distracting mole on your neck, your perfume and most importantly, your walking style.” Elena’s eyes rounded in surprise at how minutely he has observed each and everything of hers. He watches the flutter of her eyelashes. Her eye colour has mysteriously changed from brown to natural green. The colour of thick dense forest of a****n that hides numerous species. Mysterious. Deadly. That’s what she is- a lethal venom. With each passing seconds his eyes turn a shade darker. It takes everything in her not to run and hide in her

Viola halted the doctor. My heart skipped a beat as my face shifted to the doctor. “What’s wrong with my sister? She doesn’t look good,” Viola questioned, turning to the doctor. Tancredi’s eyes flicked from Viola to me, and I gave her a quiet disapproval. “The Luna is…Elena is fine. She’s strong and doing well. I just stopped by for her regular check up,” Doctor tanctedi answered. I let out a sigh of relief before Viola turned back to me. She inched closer and stroke the strand of hair on my forehead.

“That’s… horrifying. Truly. I’m just a woman who went shopping this morning and got pushed down. Why would anyone say something like that?” The lead officer seemed confused. “Mrs. Thorne… we’re only here to escort you for questioning...” “Escort?” Elena echoed, as if the word itself wounded her. “Like I’m dangerous?” Jace gasped loudly behind her. “She faints when she sees blood!” he exclaimed. (Elena kicked him lightly.) “I mean, she faints when she sees… ketchup. Sometimes.” One officer turned to another. “Ketchup?”

“I’ll sit here while you eat. Then I’ll leave. Doctor comes at 8am. Clothes delivery at 9. We don’t talk about Carter Industries until you’re ready.” Elena nodded. Once. She stood. Legs shook. Not from cold. From being vertical too long. She walked to the table. Sat. The chair was too soft. She perched on the edge like she might have to run. Mercer slid the soup closer. A spoon. Nothing else. Elena picked up the spoon. Her hand shook. She scooped a small amount. Brought it to her lips. Hot. It burned her tongue. She swallowed anyway. Five seconds later her stomach clenched. Her throat closed. She stood, stumbled to the bathroom, and threw up everything. Nothing came up but bile and water.

Elena’s POV The morning light streamed through the curtains, painting soft golden hues across the bedroom. I blinked a few times, my body feeling heavy with exhaustion. Beside me, Mia was still curled up under the covers, her breathing steady. I shifted slightly, but the uneasy feeling in my stomach only worsened. A sharp wave of nausea surged through me. Without a second thought, I threw off the blanket and rushed to the bathroom, barely making it in time before I started throwing up.

They exchanged a passionate kiss. ………. The next morning, just like every other morning, Elena woke up to prepare for work. She had planned that the next day would be her day off to spend time with her lovely fiancé, so she was energized. Only to wipe her face with her hand and notice a stench of iron and a thick liquid on her face. She looked at her hand to see bloodstains, surprised to see whether she was bleeding. She turned to see the dead body of Lucas by her side.

She gives me a weak smile, and my heart clenches. “My love,” I whisper, rushing to her side and taking her hand in mine. She squeezes my fingers weakly. “I’m okay, Albert,” she murmurs. I look at the doctor, my voice tight with desperation. “What’s wrong with her? Tell me, doctor, is she alright?” I ask, with worry in my voice. The doctor studies me carefully before speaking. “Mr. Albert, there’s nothing dangerous about Elena’s condition. What she’s experiencing, nausea, weakness, loss of appetite, all these are common symptoms."

My tongue was thick and dry. I reached out a hand, my fingers trembling. "Please. Just a little." Elena looked at the pitcher. Then, she slowly tipped it over. I watched in horror as the water spilled onto the rug, soaking into the expensive fabric until the pitcher was empty. She didn't blink. She didn't smile. She just watched the water disappear. "Gutter blood doesn't need clean water," Elena hissed. "Gutter blood survives on whatever it can find in the dark." She kicked the empty pitcher across the room. It shattered against the wall, the pieces spraying like shards of ice.

What she did not know was that every move she made, every person she met, was being reported to the Queen. A week after Samuel’s visit, Elena fell sick. The decline was sudden and brutal. Bloom took a week off work to care for her, refusing to leave her side. She cooked for her, cleaned for her, and slept in a chair by her bed. But nothing helped. Elena grew weaker each day, her breaths shallow and strained. One evening, when the sun dipped low and the room filled with golden light, Elena called Bloom to her bedside. “Come closer, child.” Bloom leaned in, tears already burning her eyes. Elena removed the ring from her hands and gave it to Bloom. A ruby the color of fresh blood sat in the cen