Love Beyond the Mask by Adelaide Sinclair

Chapter 172

Whitney had rushed to Ludwik’s side upon hearing his anguished cries, her concern for him propelling her

forward

But as she reached the door, Elaine shoved her inside and quickly shut it behind her. Leaning against the door, Whitney caught her breath and studied Ludwik closely.

He was in the throes of self–harm, dragging shards of porcelain across his arm, likely trying to distract himself from the searing pain in his head.

“Ludwik, stop it! You can’t do this to yourself! Let me help you ease the pain, please?” Whitney implored, rushing to his side.

His eyes were bloodshot, no longer recognizing her. Instinctively, he lashed out, driving the sharp shard toward

her arm

Her skin was instantly beaded with droplets of crimson, Gritting her teeth against the pain, Whitney managed a tender, pained smile. “At least you didn’t go for my belly”

1 need to get out!” Ludwik muttered, half–delirious as he pushed past her.

He must’ve realized who was on the other side of the door.

“You can’t go out there; you can’t let them get the upper hand, ruin your life. Your father… he wants to lock you up in an asylum,” Whitney said, her voice thick with urgency as she wrapped her arms around him, her eyes brimming with pity.

His forehead was a map of bulging veins, his gaze filled with extreme agony and fear- a remnant of some childhood trauma. He shook his head helplessly, turning to embrace her. “I don’t want to go there. Please, save

me.”

“Elaine, there must be something you can do. I need to get better fast… to stand up to them!” His words were broken, forced out between waves of pain.

The mention of “Elaine‘ left Whitney frozen, tears streaming down her face.

But she had no time to be sad, no time for jealousy over his trust in Elaine. She would not stand by and watch him crumble, let the Lippert family kick him when he was down. She would cure him; she had to believe she

could.

“Leave it to me. L. Give me your hand,” Whitney called to him, her voice a gentle caress through her tears.

His rage seemed to subside at the sound of her voice, and he slowly calmed down, slumping to the ground and extending his muscular arm toward her,

wild and erratic. Blood surged from his skull to his limbs, a clear sign of a fevered affliction pressing on his nerves, causing unbearable pain and a violent

similar to that of a stranger she had treated years

had been a dark night, and she couldn’t see his face clearly. He had injured her arm as well, giving her a fair share of suffering.

healer’s heart, she had stayed with him through the night, treating

that man, Whitney hoped they could work for Ludwik too. After assessing his condition, she picked up the pack of medical needles Elaine had left on the table. Selecting a silver needle,

agitated man jerked violently, and Whitney soothed him with a soft voice. “Don’t be afraid, L. I’m healing you. Just imagine you’re lying in a meadow, comfortable and safe. Shall I hum a tune for

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Chapter

hum a lullaby,

seeping into the barren corners of Ludwik’s heart, bringing

furrowed brow relaxed, and he slowly wrapped his cold hand around hers, gradually closing

you that night, he realized, as the melody confirmed

holding her wrist and resting across her

kicked gently.

but he’s sick. Mommy’s healing him. Be good, okay? Once he’s better, in a few months when you’re born, he’ll be able to hold you. I

within her,

her lip, a bitter taste in her

hear her murmurs. His hand left her wrist and found its way to her swollen belly, where he felt the gentle movements of the little

he wasn’t fully aware. This moment of interaction between him and their child was precious. “L, do

brow furrowed in pain, his trembling body seeking

as if it were a

delirium, he mistook her for his

high,” she whispered, feeling a chill envelop her.

to smile

she looked down at

cookies you used to make, I could never have enough

slipped into a

and finally, it dropped. Whitney’s pale hand covered her mouth tightly, muffling the broken whispers,

by your side, to bear this

tears, Whitney picked up the needle

more needles into his pressure

intensive care unit, there were

door, close enough to see through the small window, listening

merely talking in his sleep, her heart eased. Whitney’s treatment was working. She clenched her fists.

in the hallway outside ended, and the Lippert