Free The Immortal Game (book 1) by Joannah Miley

dried blood on her face and dark circles under her brown eyes, the same color as her father’s.
    Would she see herself like this often?
    A rugged and lonely life on the front treating war casualties seemed less appealing this morning. Not because of seeing Ash’s injuries. She was a doctor’s child, and even if she had never been in an operating room, or even taken a CPR class, she had certainly heard it over the dinner table; the guts, the gore, the poor prognoses.
    What made that life uncertain today was the feeling she had when Ash came, stumbling and half-dead, into her house. At that moment something inside her had broken. The part of her that thought she would never get to see him again, never get to talk to him again, never get to feel that sense of him again. It was the moment she thought she had lost him.
    She looked back to the mirror, back into her brown eyes; the same as her father’s. But they were different too, weren’t they? Maybe they were bigger, or less honey like, or maybe they were just hers.
    People leave, she reminded herself. It’s what they do. Her mother and her father had both left her. And Ash would too. Not today, it seemed, but someday. Even if they were really together , even if they got married , even if they both lived a hundred years. He would leave. Or she would. Eventually one of them would die. And she would be alone. Again.
    She shook her head and tried to clear these senseless thoughts. She hardly knew the man.
    Marriage!
    She snickered out loud and bit her lip hard. It was the same sore spot she had bitten before she jumped off a bridge with only Ash’s encouragement pushing her over the edge.
    …
    Ruby made scrambled eggs. Ash would need protein to rebuild cells, she reasoned. She sat on the couch in the front room, her own plate in her hands, and tried to ignore the blood on the floor, but she had no appetite at all.
    Instead of eating she watched him. At first he just slept. When he twitched, there was a sound, not quite a moan, softer. His eyes opened, and then closed again. Minutes later he stared at the ceiling, either already aware of where he was or unconcerned about waking up in a strange place.
    “Ruby?” he said. It was no more than a whisper.
    She sat by his head and stroked his stubbly cheek. He breathed a deep satisfied sigh and her heart felt like it might break open.
    When he opened his eyes again she saw that they were no longer bright red. They were still bloodshot, but the blue shone through and she felt like she was looking at him again, not Ash possessed by a demon.
    “Thank you,” he managed.
    She laughed nervously. “For what? Exactly?”
    He closed his eyes without answering.
    She felt foolish. Her own emotions were too strong. “What can I do?” She tried to sound composed. “Should you eat? I made eggs.”
    “Ambrosia,” he whispered. His eyelids flickered closed when he tried to open them.
    “I made eggs,” Ruby repeated, wondering if he heard her.
    His throat worked up and down. “Ambrosia,” he managed.
    “Ambrosia?” she said, puzzled. “You want an Ambrosia Bar?”
    He remained quiet, resting from the effort of speaking. She stood and searched the familiar room with her eyes.
    “Will you be okay?” she asked.
    He nodded, a small movement of his head.
    She went to her room and pulled sweatpants and a sweatshirt on over the boxers and T-shirt she had worn to bed. She ran back down to Ash and kneeled beside his unmoving form. The depression in his chest was hollow, and the bruise was puffy and dusk colored.
    She began to stand but felt his hand on her arm in a shaky attempt to tug her back toward him. Warmth surged inside her. She kissed him and felt his lips curl up in a weak smile under hers. His eyes remained closed.
    “I love you,” he said, the words pushed out of his lungs like a breath, barely audible.
    She jerked back and stared at him as one might look at a viper in the quiet pause after it’s struck. An unexpected chill