Page 57 of Dark Voyage Matters of the Mind

So yeah, not having an ugly scar was a bonus that she would gladly accept, but that wouldn't be the main reason she would agree to Dagor's blood transfusion.

It wasn't just about healing faster or more completely. It was also about finding out if she belonged in the magical world of gods and immortals she'd been invited to by Mia and Toven.

The truth was that she was afraid to find out, and that made her as much of a coward as Dagor.

There was also the issue of her family, but just as she demanded of him that he make an effort to work things out for them, she should do no less. She had a couple of decades until her lack of aging became noticeable, and then she could use makeup and maybe even wear a padded suit to make herself look the age she was supposed to be. The extra effort was a small sacrifice to make in the name of love.

Did she love Dagor, though?

Or was it the classic response of a damsel in distress to her savior?

So yeah, he was gorgeous and a real god in bed, and he was fun to be with despite his dry humor and his obsessive interest in technology. But was it love?

As her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening, she turned her head, half expecting, half hoping it would be Dagor returning not just with the syringe but also with some newfound clarity or confession.

Instead, it was a woman she vaguely remembered seeing at Alena and Orion's wedding.

"Hi, Frankie." She smiled. "I'm Hildegard, your nurse. How are you feeling?"

She didn't look like a Hildegard. First of all, she wasn't blond, and secondly, she was way too young for an old name like that. But then, she might be centuries old.

"Nice to meet you, Nurse Hildegard. I feel as well as can be expected. What's my prognosis?"

"It's very good." The nurse went about checking her vitals. "You are young, strong, and you are healing. It will take time, and you will probably feel that wound for years to come, but you will live, and that's what's important."

"I won't feel the wound if I transition, right?"

The nurse lifted her eyes to her. "That's right. You will also have no scars left. The downside is that you can never get a tattoo or a piercing." She glanced at Frankie's ears. "The ones you have will close up, so you will have to switch to clip-ons."

"That's a small price to pay for immortality."

"Indeed."

"Do you think I will, though? I don't have any paranormal talents, and I'm as average as they come." She chuckled. "I just compensate for that with a lot of attitude."

The nurse looked at her with fond eyes. "I think that the Fates brought you here for a reason. They wouldn't have bothered if you had no chance of making some lonely immortal or god happy."

Dagor

After leaving Frankie's room, Dagor scanned the small reception area for the medical supplies closet. When he couldn't find it, he stepped out of the clinic and strode down the hallway, searching for a door that was identified as a supply room. But with his attention turned inward and his mind churning with the accusations Frankie had hurled at him, he might have missed the place because he reached the end of the corridor and had to turn around.

Her words still echoed in his head. She'd called him a coward, and although he'd scoffed at the notion, her accusation stung.

He was many things, but he wasn't a coward.

Would a coward have joined the resistance?

Would a coward conspire against the might of the Eternal King?

Of course not. Only the brave or the foolish dared to do so.

Striding fast, he almost bumped into the nurse as she stepped out of one of the rooms. "Excuse me," he apologized. "I didn't see the door opening."

"That's okay." She smiled at him. "Were you looking for the restrooms?"

"Yes, I was," he lied easily. "None of these doors have signs on them."

She tilted her head. "You must have been preoccupied. The bathrooms are clearly marked, and you've just passed them."