The nurse hesitated for a moment before gently placing a hand on his arm. "Mr. Clarke, you need to clean yourself up. Please," she urged in a soft yet firm voice. "The doctors are doing everything they can. We'll inform you as soon as there's any news."
Alaric barely reacted as his bloodied hands trembled at his sides. His gaze remained fixed on the emergency room doors waiting for someone to come out. "I can't leave," he rasped. "Not until I know she's okay."
Before the nurse could insist, hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway which caught their attention. He turned his head sharply to see an older man rushing toward him. It was his butler, Arthur, followed closely by two maids. Each of them carried bags while their faces were etched with panic and concern.
"Mr. Clarke!" the butler
