Chapter 184

Lila

The fever came like a tide, creeping in slowly until I was drowning.

I gripped the edge of the table until my knuckles whitened, pretending I was steady, pretending I could hold myself upright without help. But by midday, sweat soaked my skin, chilling me even while I felt like I was burning up inside.

I hated the way my body betrayed me. I hated the weakness dragged me down, the reminder that I was fading away more each day.

“Sit down before you collapse. Please.”

Ronan’s voice cut through the haze. I hadn’t even realized I was swaying again until his hand steadied my elbow. He guided me to the cot like I weighed nothing, setting me down before I could snap that I didn’t need him.

“I can walk on my own,” I muttered, though my knees shook when they I the thin mattress.

“You could,” he replied, kneeling in front of me. His face was tight, his eyes sharp as ever. “But you’re getting worse, and you’re burning up. I could cook dinner on your skin it’s so warm.”

I snorted at that image to cover that I hated him for being right. The quiet authority in his tone, the way he never raised his voice and still always seemed to be in control of himself, it frustrated me.

He pressed a cup of water into my hand. My fingers trembled so badly I nearly spilled it. I wanted to throw it back at him, tell him I didn’t need to be babysat, but my throat was so dry I couldn’t help but drink.

The water was cool, sliding over the raw ache in my throat, easing me for a moment. Then the fever surged again, leaving me trembling, my skin clammy despite the heat rolling under it.

“You need rest,” he said. His hand brushed the hair from my forehead, rough calluses startlingly gentle.

“I’ve done nothing but rest,” I snapped. The anger felt good, hot enough to mask the fear curling in my stomach. “And it hasn’t helped.”

His jaw tightened. “It’s the pregnancy. It’s taking everything you have to keep yourself together. Yes, you’re strong but you don’t have to be all the time.”

The words hit hard, the reminder that I wasn’t just fighting for me. That I couldn’t collapse, not when there was another heartbeat, or maybe more than one, depending on mine.

My hands drifted unconsciously to my stomach, trembling as they pressed over the swell.

“What if it kills me?” I whispered before I could stop myself. The thought had been gnawing at me for days but saying it out loud made it harder to ignore.

Ronan’s expression didn’t falter, though a hint of fear or grief flickered in his eyes. “It won’t,” he said firmly. “Not while I’m here.”

I laughed, short and bitter. “You can fight rogues, Ronan. You can’t fight this.” I gestured weakly at my own trembling body.

“I’ll fight for you anyway,” he said.

The conviction in his tone stole the words from my mouth. I looked away quickly, staring at the beams of the ceiling instead of the intensity in his gaze.

I wanted to tell him to stop hovering, to let me breathe. But without him, I’d already be dead. When my legs wouldn’t carry me, when my wolf wouldn’t answer, he was the one keeping me tethered to this world.

And that was a truth I couldn’t shake, no matter how much I wanted to.

Even sleep was no refuge from my failing body.

When the fever finally dragged me under, it carried me back into the Palace fire. Smoke clawed down my throat, choking me, and the heat licked up my skin until it blistered.

I saw Damon’s eyes through the flames furious and terrified, betrayed and accusing. His voice roared my name as the walls collapsed, and I couldn’t reach him, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

I woke screaming.

The walls spun, shadows dancing across them from the fire in the hearth. My lungs fought for air, each gasp tearing my throat raw. For a moment I didn’t know where I was – palace, pyre, or prison – and terror gripped my chest.

Then Ronan’s hands were there.

He gripped my shoulders, steady, grounding. “Lila. Look at me.” His voice cut through the fog of the dream and forced me to wake up. “You’re safe.”

Safe. The word sounded foreign to me. I wanted to believe it, but the images lingered and burned in my chest, Damon’s eyes still haunting me. I squeezed my eyes shut, but that only brought the nightmare closer.

“Breathe,” Ronan urged, one broad palm sliding to the center of my chest. He pressed lightly, forcing my attention on the solid sensation.

His other hand caught mine, rough skin against trembling fingers. “Breathe with me. In… and out. In… and out.”

I tried. My breath hitched, but Ronan’s voice flowed hypnotically, deep and even, dragging me back each time panic tried to pull me under. I clung to the rhythm, clung to the warmth of his hand over mine, until the shaking began to ease.

The worst of the terror passed, leaving me hollow and shivering. Tears burned at the corners of my eyes, hot with humiliation. “I can’t,” My voice broke. “I can’t keep doing this.”

“You can,” Ronan said firmly. “And you will.”

I wanted to shove him away, tell him he didn’t understand, but my strength was gone. My body sagged forward despite myself, my forehead pressing against his shoulder.

His scent or iron, pine, and smoke, flooded my senses. It wasn’t Damon’s, and that should have made me recoil. Instead, the familiarity of it kept me tethered.

I hated how much I needed it. Needed anyone.

He didn’t say anything else, just sat with me, his arm wrapped lightly around my back, keeping me upright while my breaths evened out.

The steady rise and fall of his chest under my cheek became the only rhythm I could follow.

When I finally lifted my head, his gaze met mine. I expected to see pity, but all I saw in his eyes was concern.

“This will pass,” he said quietly. “Don’t forget it.”

I swallowed hard, fighting the sting in my throat. “I don’t want to need you,” I whispered, the truth spilling before I could stop it.

His mouth twitched with the hint of a smile. “Then don’t. Just let me be here.”

The simple acceptance of it unraveled me a little more. He wasn’t asking me to lean on him. He was just… there. And that made it harder to keep him at arm’s length.

I leaned back slowly, dragging in a shaky breath. His closeness chased away the shadows of my dream, but the ache in my heart lingered.

I lay back down, clutching the blanket tight, but Ronan didn’t move from where he sat at the edge of the bed.

He remained a steady presence, as if he could guard me from my dreams as well as from the Rogues hunting me.

Eventually, exhaustion dragged me under again. This time, no fire waited, only the quiet sound of Ronan’s breathing keeping pace with mine.

And though I hated myself for it, I slept easier knowing he was there.