The Gender Game 5 by Bella Forrest (uplifting novels .txt) 📕

slowly so as not to upset it, noting the expressions on everyone’s faces. They seemed… worried. Worried and sad. Well—most of them did. Thomas was wearing a strange expression, his eyes fixed pointedly on the table.

“What’s going on?” I slurred.

Viggo broke the silence, moving over to me. “Violet, Tim is missing,” he said, his voice level, his expression becoming carefully neutral. I cocked my head at him, confused. He paused, as if searching for words, and then continued. “He covered Jay and Thomas as they fled the palace after rescuing King Maxen and Quinn. Somehow, in the confusion, they lost him.”

I turned my gaze back to Thomas, studying him closely. His expression hadn’t changed much, but his head had sunk a fraction of an inch lower. That was… guilt in his eyes.

The expression was so absurd on Thomas that I felt a laugh bubbling up from my stomach and out of my throat. “Very funny, guys,” I said, smiling broadly, then wincing as my bruised face throbbed.

No one laughed.

“Tim?” I called. Amber looked away, clearly uncomfortable.

I took a few swaying steps forward, knocking over Viggo’s chair with my hip as I reached for the table, my balance threatening to give out. I couldn’t hear it fall, but I noticed Owen flinch as it hit the floor. “Tim?” I called again, my voice pleading.

“Violet, please—” Viggo said behind me, but I ignored him.

“Tim, where are you?” I cried, moving toward the door, my heart pounding. “Tim, please! Answer me.”

My breathing was coming in gasps, the pain in my ribs increasing, and I half heard Owen mumble something behind me. I tried to move closer to the door, tears streaking down my face and pattering onto my chest. I had to find my brother! He had to be here!

I was reaching for the doorknob when the world gave up trying to make sense. My legs gave out. I would’ve fallen, but Viggo was there, his strong hands grabbing me before I hit the ground. He hefted me up with a grunt, tucking me tight against his chest.

Still I stretched for the door, crying out for my brother. Viggo shushed me as he carried me back down the hallway and into my room. I protested, but he ignored me, gently setting me down onto the bed.

I looked up at him, my vision hazy, and I realized I was still crying. Viggo snarled under his breath, though I wasn’t sure why, and then picked up the blanket and slid into bed with me, covering us both. Carefully, tenderly, his arms came around me, so lightly that my ribs didn’t even twinge. My entire body warped with pain, I still angled myself toward his warmth, wanting his comfort and strength.

“I promise we will find him,” Viggo whispered in my ear, his hand trailing through my hair. I nodded, but still the tears poured from me. I cried against him, my tears soaking through his shirt, but he didn’t complain.

Eventually, unconsciousness crept up on me, and I slept.

6

Viggo

Violet’s deep, even breathing told me she had finally succumbed to sleep. I stroked her forehead, hoping that if she dreamt, the dreams would be calming, loving. I rested her back against the pillow and pulled the blanket over her shoulders, then stared at her for a minute, my eyes struggling between avoiding and seeking out the tear-stained, injured side of her face. My stomach twisted in knots as I took in the damage, searching her countenance over and over again.

I knew the bruises would fade, and the cuts and broken bones would heal. But the bruising belied the bigger problem—Tabitha had punched Violet square in the face with her superhuman strength. I hadn’t seen all of it, but I had watched the video Violet had recorded using a button camera on her shirt. I had only seen Tabitha’s fist moving, followed by the sickening sound of flesh on flesh and Violet’s cry of pain. It was a miracle Violet was even alive after that hit.

I sat for a minute, running my hand over my face. I was exhausted, my eyelids heavy. I needed to shave—nothing new there—and I was deeply worried about Violet. I had hoped that, unlike me, she would be able to sleep until we figured out some way to ease her suffering with more than just painkillers. Unfortunately, things hadn’t gone according to my plan. Her panic in the dining room, no matter how justified, was uncharacteristic of her, confirming what the doctor had feared: her concussion was much worse than we’d thought. He had warned me about this. If we didn’t get her to a hospital soon…

I pushed the grim thought aside. I couldn’t dwell on that. It sent too much fear through me, which in turn made me frustrated and angry. I wanted to do something—anything—that would help her, but we were flying blind here. We barely had any information about what was going on; the tickers were still down, confirming Thomas’ assertion that the damage in the palace had affected them, and even with Tabitha likely dead, I knew with certainty Elena was not going to take this lying down.

Not to mention, Tim was missing. That alone terrified me, not only for Violet’s sake, but for Tim’s as well. I had grown fond of Violet’s little brother. He was an apt student who had borne the brunt of his isolation and the experimentation he’d suffered with a resolve worthy of my respect and admiration. The young man was resourceful and smart, just like his sister, so I had to believe he was all right. I just needed to know where to find him. I hated not knowing almost as much as I hated knowing someone I was responsible for was missing, possibly injured… or worse.

Behind me, there was a soft rap on the door. I turned, the bedsprings squeaking under my shifting weight, and saw Amber standing there, concern stamped on her features. Behind her was Dr. Arlan, the