Chapter 179

Lila

I woke to the sharp ache of my own body reminding me I was still alive. Every muscle screamed when I shifted, my ribs sore, my skin burning where bruises had blossomed overnight.

For one breath I thought I was back in the forest clearing, claws scraping, teeth flashing. My chest seized as though I’d been dragged there again.

But when my eyes blinked open, it was only the dim light of the hideout. The fire had burned low, casting the room in orange glow and shadows. And Ronan was there.

He sat in the chair beside the cot, broad shoulders hunched forward, forearms braced on his knees. His eyes flicked up the instant I stirred, taking inventory of my injuries. Relief washed over his face in a way that made my throat tighten.

“You’re awake,” he said simply, as though he hadn’t been sitting there for hours waiting for me to do exactly that.

I shifted, wincing as the blanket scraped against tender skin. “You never left?”

Ronan shook his head, not even bothering to soften it. “Not while you were out.”

I should have felt grateful that he was by my side, but his dedication irritated me more than it should have.

It was the hovering, and the way he seemed ready to step in just to keep me from falling apart. It made it hard to breathe; it felt like being caged all over again.

My pride bristled, snapping at its invisible leash.

“You don’t have to guard me every second,” I muttered, pushing myself up despite the fire along my spine. “I can manage.”

The look he gave me was dry and utterly unconvinced. “You were nearly torn apart no more than a day ago. You’re alive now because I was guarding.”

I hated that he was right. I hated it more that I needed him, that my survival was tied to his presence. The resentment coiled hot in my chest, even as gratitude gnawed underneath. I didn’t want to rely on anyone else, ever again.

I turned my face away, staring at the cracked wall. “That doesn’t mean I want a shadow following me everywhere I go.”

“Then stop giving me reasons to think you won’t be here when I turn around.” His voice was quiet, but the edge beneath it cut.

I bit down on my reply, chewing on the bitter taste of it instead. The silence stretched, thick as the smoke from the fire.

The truth I didn’t want to face was that Ronan was right. If he hadn’t come when he did, I’d already be gone; torn apart like he said, or worse, dragged away to Goddess knows where.

My hand drifted to my stomach without thinking, pressing against the faint swell that had barely begun to show. The thought of what would have happened – of who would have suffered with me – made bile burn at the back of my throat.

Ronan noticed the motion, and his gaze softened slightly. For all his overbearing presence, he wouldn’t touch without permission or necessity.

I drew a long, shaky breath, then let my head drop back against the wall. Exhaustion weighed heavy on my body even after hours of rest.

But the ache in my limbs was nothing compared to the heaviness pressing down inside me: the guilt, the fear, the endless running.

“Fine,” I whispered finally, not looking at him. “Stay, then. Just… stop looking at me like I’m going to break at any moment. I’m fine.”

For a heartbeat he didn’t answer, and I thought maybe he wouldn’t. But then his voice came low, steady, unyielding.

“You aren’t going to break, Lila. You’re too stubborn, and strong, for that.”

The words dug under my skin, both infuriating and unbearably comforting all at once. I hated him for saying them, and I hated how much I needed to hear them.

So, I closed my eyes instead of answering, letting the silence stretch again. His presence sat heavy beside me, immovable as stone. And though I resented it, part of me was glad not to be alone.

Turns out, Ronan wasn’t the type to leave words unsaid for long.

“You can’t keep going like this,” he said finally, his tone gentler than before but no less honest.

My eyes flicked open, narrowing on him. “Like what?”

“Like you’re invincible when your body’s splintering apart.” His gaze dropped deliberately to my stomach, then rose again to pin me in place. “You need the antidote, Lila. Every day you put it off, you’re gambling with more than your own life.”

My pulse jumped, quick and angry. Of course he’d bring it up again now, while I was still too weak to sit up without bracing on the wall. “Not yet.”

Ronan’s jaw tightened, a muscle ticking just below his cheekbone. “You’d rather waste away piece by piece than take what might save you?”

“You don’t know it will save me,” I snapped, heat rushing to my face. “You can’t promise me it’s safe. You can’t promise it won’t harm the baby.”

He leaned forward, the chair creaking under his weight, voice dropping low.

“What I can promise is what I’ve already seen. I’ve watched you wither every day, for weeks. I’ve seen you stumble because your wolf isn’t there to hold you up. You think that won’t matter when it’s time to give birth? That you can fight through that without her when you’re already struggling?”

His words sank claws into me, dredging up the fear I buried under that stubbornness he mentioned.

Images flashed in my mind: pain I couldn’t withstand, silence in my chest where Ruby should be howling, tiny cries fading because I wasn’t strong enough to bring them into the world.

I folded my arms tight across my chest, as if I could hold myself together by sheer force. “I won’t risk it. Not until a healer I trust examines it. I won’t swallow something made by the same woman who poisoned me.”

For a moment, the fire cracked loud enough to fill the silence between us. Ronan didn’t move, didn’t breathe, his stare hiding an anger I’d never seen before.

I thought he might explode, that his wolf might shove through and drag the decision from me by force.

But then he exhaled, slowly, and the anger reined back under his control. He rubbed a hand down his face, leaving streaks of dirt across his skin, and shook his head.

“Stubborn female,” he muttered, but his voice lacked venom. Only weariness.

I bit back my retort. Stubborn, yes, but fear drove it more than pride. If I admitted that out loud, it would sound too much like weakness.

Ronan stood, towering over me, his shadow stretching long against the wall. “Fine. We’ll wait for a healer. But you have to know, every hour you refuse, I feel like you’re choosing to suffer needlessly.”

I flinched at that, because it was too close to the truth. I was already balancing on the edge, only I didn’t know which way I would fall…towards life or death, strength or nothingness.

“Then stop watching me so closely,” I whispered, not sure I meant to say that aloud.

He let out a rough sound, halfway between a laugh and a growl, and turned toward the door muttering under his breath. “Can’t do that. Not while you’re mine to protect.”

The word mine snagged in the air, and I flinched. His shoulders stiffened, like he realized I’d heard it too late. He didn’t look back before stepping outside, letting the door creak shut behind him.

Alone again, I sagged against the wall, pressing both hands to my stomach. My body trembled, still weak, but it was my heart that ached the most.

I wanted to hate him for pressing me, for pushing so hard. Instead, all I felt was the fear gnawing beneath my refusal.

Because what if Ronan was right? What if the antidote was the only thing that could keep me alive long enough to see this new life brought into the world?