Logan POV

My eyes slowly opened and I heard a beeping noise to my right side.

"What-" I began but felt an instant pain in my lower left abdomen.

"Finally you're awake, are you alright Your Highness?" I look up and see a woman with short brown hair, wearing a white coat.

"Am I in the hospital?" My voice is husky and my throat is dry.

"Yes," she lays my head back down, "please try and relax."

I listen to the repetitive beeping of the machine beside me. I flinch as I notice several needles in my arms, "is that all necessary?"

"Your father has requested we take every precaution to keep you alive," she says, readjusting the needles in my arms which I had attempted to yank out.

"Really? Are you sure he didn't pay you to poison whatever it is you're injecting into me?" I laugh sarcastically.

She just gives me a sympathetic look, "of course not, Your Highness."

"Logan that's quite enough," I hear the stern voice of my father enter the room and the doctor leaves. I simply rolled my eyes, reaching for a glass of water on the table to soothe my dry throat.

"You're very lucky to be alive," he continues, sternly.

I notice the disappointment in his face but I couldn't care less about the man right now, "where is she?"

"You were nearly killed and that stupid girl is the first thing you think about?" He raises his voice.

"She's not stupid!" I drop the glass of water and it smashes on the floor, making us both jump.

"How am I still alive?" I ask in a quieter voice when we recover from the loud noise.

"He missed by a long shot," my father scoffs, "but something tells me he didn't intend to kill you."

"Who?"

"The girl's brother was the one that shot you," he laughs, "can't say I blame him."

I pause in thought, would he really miss on purpose?

"But that should be the least of your problems right now, son," he gives me a deadly look, "when you've healed I think we need to have a little talk."

I roll my eyes, "great. Can you get Betty?"

"If she's willing to talk to you after all you've done then sure," he reluctantly gets out of his chair to get my sister. He clearly wanted to talk about the situation as much as I did, which was not at all.

Little did he know she knew all along. Of course, I'd never tell my parents that or she'd be in trouble, too. Betty was always a the golden child anyway, so even if she was discovered she'd wiggle her way out of trouble, but I wouldn't put her through that anyway.

"Aw, Logan," my sister frowns as she looks at me and comes over to hug me.

"I'm okay," I return the hug, trying not to groan at the pain from lifting myself up.

"Maya's worried," she sighs, "I told her you'd be fine but she won't stop talking about you."

On the other hand, my youngest sister was my complete double in personality. We used to sneak out at night a lot. Well, by sneak out it wasn't leaving the castle grounds. I would never let her leave, even with me.

Betty looks at me and I can't read her emotions, "I told you nothing good would come out of it, didn't I?"

I nod reluctantly, "yeah, well it was fun while it lasted."

"Logan, you're hurt," she frowns, "that's not very fun."

"You don't understand," I shake my head, "how can you live here? It's awful."

"It's our home," Betty says, "it doesn't matter."

"This place isn't a home," I retorted, "it's built on lies, and rules, and expectations and I hate it. I hate everything about this stupid place."

"Even us?" She whispers sadly.

My eyes widen, "no! That's not what I meant!"

"I know," she nods, sighing.

"Don't you hate it here too though? I can't be the only one, can I?" I ask, "that's part of the reason I left. This place is so awful that I was willing to risk this happening to get away."

"Sometimes," she frowns, "but I have you, and Maya and the rest of our family."

"The only people I care about are you two and our mother, Betty," I tell her honestly.

"Father has never really been there for us or Mother, face it," I take a deep breath to prevent my anger for the man becoming visible, "and our cousins are always away. You three are all I need in this family."

"He cares about us," she replies, "I know he does."

"He cares about you when you shut your mouth and do what he tells you to," I roll my eyes.

"How could you say that about him?" She gasps, "he's our father!"

"It's the truth," I tell her, "it's about time you all realised it. He's always out, or busy, or bossing us around. Not spending time with us properly."

"Logan, he's a King. He gets busy sometimes but it doesn't mean he doesn't care about us. He went out and searched for you! We all did! He cares about us," she frowns sadly. Does she really believe that, or is she in denial?

"Whatever," I didn't want to argue with her while I was in the condition I was in, "I don't have the energy for this."

"Okay, I'm sorry," she apologises quietly.

"It's okay," I lie back onto the bed, trying to get comfortable. It was hard to ignore the pain coming from near my stomach, but I breathed through it. Son of a bitch Luke Maxwell.

"Logan?" I heard a familiar young girl's voice from outside the room and smiled.

"In here, Maya," Betty opens the door and invited in my youngest sister, smiling with relief.

"Oh my God are you okay?" She asks, pulling me into quite possibly the tightest hug I had ever received, "I thought you died!"

I chuckle slightly and she slaps my arm gently, "it's not funny! Somebody wouldn't tell me anything apart from the fact that you were shot!"

Betty shifts uncomfortably under Maya's glare, "I didn't want to worry you, I thought it was best if we just waited. Besides, I didn't know that much myself!"

"Still, no one ever tells me anything," she huffs, plopping into the chair beside the bed, "you all treat me like a little kid!"

"You are a little kid," I chuckle, ruffling her hair and she swats my hand away.

"I am not!" She folds her arms and Betty and I laugh.

The door swings open again and the worried face of my mother appears, "oh, my baby, are you alright?"

I struggle to tear her hands from my face, "I'm fine."

How many times have I told you I hate being smothered when I'm ill? Or, in this case, injured. Or how about smothering in general.

"You don't look fine," she frowns, grabbing my hand in her two hands, her mood suddenly changing to anger, "you're an idiot, Logan! What were you thinking? We all thought you'd died!"

"I'm sorry," I try to calm her down, "can we talk about this later, please? I'm not feeling the best."

Her face immediately softens, "of course, but remember when you've healed you're going to have to explain all of this. You can't avoid it forever, honey. Your father and I are angry, but I want to make sure you get better first."

I nod and she exits the room. Maya raises her eyebrows, "wow. That went better than I expected. At least it wasn't Father."

"Oh, I already spoke to him," Maya's eyes widen and Betty nods.

"And you're still alive?" She jokes, though sounding serious.

"Barely," I huff, "the man's harsh."

Maya clicks her tongue, "you're still angry at him."

"You're not?" I ask.

"Not yet," she laughs, "he's starting to get on my nerves too, though. He treats me like a baby!"

"You two need to understand that everything he does, he does for us," Betty shakes her head, "I don't understand why it's always you two that argue with him."

That's because he sees you as his perfect little girl that never gets into trouble, I roll my eyes in annoyance.

"What?" She asks, folding her arms.

"Nothing," I shake my head, "I think you two should go now."

They both exit the room quickly, this is going to be fun, I thought sarcastically.

"Oh!" I hear Maya gasp from outside the room and the door swings open.

"Don't think I've forgotten you left us on Christmas. You're going to make up for it, brother."