Rebirth Snatching Back My Stolen Luck novel Chapter 92

The moment Dean settled me into the car, I blacked out completely–whether from the drug in my veins or simply because my high–strung nerves finally let go, I wasn’t sure.

The last thing I heard before slipping into unconsciousness was Dean’s panicked voice and the roar of the engine.

When I came to…

The sharp scent of antiseptic filled my nose, followed by the faint beeping of machines.

I blinked slowly, disoriented, staring at a sterile white ceiling.

My thoughts moved sluggishly, trying to stitch together the fragments of my recent memories: Claire’s call. The hotel room. Brandon. And then… Dean.

As though summoned by my thoughts, a familiar voice broke through.

“Elise.”

Dean was instantly at my side, leaning over me, his face etched with concern.

“You’re awake.”

I scrutinized him.

His shirt was wrinkled, his eyes rimmed red. For a moment, I almost thought he had been the one put through an ordeal.

“How… long was I out?” My voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper.

“Five hours. It’s already evening,” he answered.

My brows drew together. “Because of the drug he used?”

He didn’t need me to clarify who I meant.

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Chapter 92

Dean’s gaze darkened briefly, but softened when it met mine.

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“Partly. Most of it’s already been flushed from your system. But you were completely spent- physically and mentally. The doctor said your body took the chance to force you into rest.

I exhaled softly, relieved to hear the drug was now out of my system.

“Then… I can go home now, right?”

I’d never liked hospitals and that dislike only deepened after my rebirth.

The smell, the sight of syringes, pills–every detail threatened to unearth memories I’d rather bury.

Memories of my previous life: being confined, isolated, drugged against my will.

Dean hesitated. “The doctor recommended to keep you under observation for a few days. Just to be safe.”

My face fell instantly.

More days here? Absolutely not.

I pushed myself upright, only to feel my body protest, almost falling back into the bed.

Dean was quick to steady me, slipping behind me so I could lean against him, while careful not to disturb the IV in my arm.

“The doctor warned you’d be weak,” he murmured, his voice both gentle and pleading. “Don’t push yourself.”

But I couldn’t stand this place.

“I have to leave,” I said firmly, meeting his eyes.

Something in my insistence seemed to register with him.

He paused, then suggested, “How about this–we’ll ask the doctor to see if there’s a safe way around this.”

I gave a small nod. It was a compromise I could accept.

Dean pressed the call button by the bedside, and moments later, a knock sounded at the door.

“Come in,” he said.

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A young doctor, maybe in his late twenties, walked in with a smile, a nurse trailing behind.

“You’re awake. Nice to meet you, Lilith.‘

His tone struck me as overly enthusiastic, but before I could respond, Dean cut in sharply.

“Save the greetings. Check on her first.”

The doctor didn’t seem offended. If anything, he grinned wider.

That, paired with Dean’s casual glare, made me blink.

Were they… familiar?

Dean caught my unspoken question and explained, “Another childhood friend. Same with Callum and Freya.”

The doctor extended a hand. “Logan King, one of Dean’s best friends. Nice to meet you.”

Even though my body was still weak, I endured it and shook his hand politely. “Lilith Caldwell. Likewise.”

His grin brightened. “I’ve already heard plenty about you from Callum.”

Not surprisingly, that guy lived for the drama.

Dean scowled. “Get to work.”

Unfazed, Logan chuckled. “You really should work on that temper of yours, D. Don’t you think so, Lilith?”

I fought back a laugh.

Birds of a feather indeed–whether teasing or serious, Dean’s friends all seemed to thrive on provoking him.

Dean’s scowl deepened, his voice low with warning. “Logan.”

“Yes, yes.” Logan sighed theatrically before starting the exam.

Yet his chatter didn’t stop. “By the way, Lilith–did you know this man has been single since birth? A 27–year–old virgin. Can you believe it?”

“Logan!” Dean barked, his voice sharp, but beneath it, I caught something else.

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Chapter 92

Embarrassment.

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My lips curved faintly. When I glanced at him, his eyes flickered away, refusing to meet mine.

How adorable.

Dean Callahan, who looked every inch the playboy, had never dated?

The thought was almost laughable. Yet with Logan grinning smugly and Dean offering no denial, I couldn’t dismiss it as a lie.

Logan chuckled at Dean’s reaction.

“Our Treasure Hound can actually blush? Now that’s a rare sight.”

The phrase made me pause.

“Treasure Hound?” I echoed, my curiosity piqued.

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