Chapter 185

Lila

I sat stiff on the edge of the chair, every sense straining, the fever had broken but a new dread crawled under my skin.

The outside had gone quiet. Even the insects had become silent, and that only meant one thing out here: something bigger was hunting.

Ronan had already noticed. His hand was on the hilt of his blade, body coiled, eyes fixed on the shutters as though he could see through the wood. “Stay here,” he murmured, voice low and hard.

My chest tightened. “Ronan—”

“Stay. Here.” His tone didn’t allow me to argue. Then he was gone, the door swinging quietly shut behind him.

The stillness shattered seconds later with the sound of claws raking against bark and a growl that made my blood freeze.

I staggered to the window crack, heart pounding, and saw Ronan in the clearing, one male against three Rogues.

He met them head-on, blade flashing as he tore into the first. His movements were brutal with the kind of violence born from decades of training.

But for every hit he landed, another Rogue pressed harder, circling, testing his defenses.

I wanted to scream, to run to him, but my legs wouldn’t move. I pressed both hands to the windowsill until splinters bit into my palms, watching as the fight blurred into a whirlwind of teeth and claws.

Then I saw a male slipping behind, faster than the others. Ronan cut the one in front of him down, but not fast enough. Claws slashed across his ribs, tearing through fabric, and his roar forced me to move.

My heart lurched into my throat as I grabbed my own blade and launched out the door.

Blood covered Ronan’s side, shocking against the pale of his shirt. He staggered, just barely keeping his footing as he drove his blade through the male’s chest.

The other two faltered at the sight, then melted back into the trees, their growls echoing as they retreated.

It was over. But Ronan was still standing in the middle of the small battlefield, swaying like the trees in the wind, one hand pressed tight to his ribs.

I didn’t think. I ran to him, my feet sinking into damp earth.

“Ronan!”

His eyes snapped to me, sharp even through the pain. “I told you to stay inside.” His words were steady, but his knees almost buckled.

I caught his arm before he fell, slipping under the weight of him. He flinched in pain, his blood soaking into my sleeve. “Shut up and sit down,” I snapped, though my voice shook.

He didn’t fight me. He let me drag him to the base of a tree, his breaths harsh and uneven.

I tore at his shirt, pressing trembling hands against the wound. Blood poured fast and hot between my fingers.

Panic clawed up my throat. I’d seen death before, but I never expected to Ronan so close to it. The male who always seemed unbreakable now sagged against me, teeth clenched, blood slicking his skin.

“Hold still,” I whispered, though my voice wavered. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I pressed fabric against the gashes, forcing myself to breathe through the sight of red spreading so quickly. “Goddess, there’s too much blood.”

“You’re doing fine,” he ground out, his voice a low rasp.

I shook my head, tears stinging my eyes. “We need to stitch you up. I’m not sure I can –”

“You will.” His gaze locked on mine, fierce even through the pain. “You’ll figure it out.”

Something in his certainty steadied me, even as my heart raced. I tightened the makeshift bandage, using every scrap of cloth I could tear from my cloak. My hands were slick, my breath ragged, but I didn’t stop until the bleeding slowed under the pressure.

When it did, I sagged back on my heels, chest heaving. My hands were covered in his blood, and the sight made me shiver.

Ronan leaned his head against the tree, eyes closed, jaw tight. “See? You’re stronger than you think.”

I stared at him, at the paleness of his face, and realized it wasn’t the Rogues that scared me, it was the thought of losing him.

I barely had time to breathe.

Ronan was still slumped against the tree, bandage clutched to his ribs; I turned to get a needle and thread from inside when the forest erupted again.

Branches snapped, heavy paws shook the ground, and urgent voices cut through the night.

“Circle her. Don’t let her run.”

My blood went cold.

I scrambled back to Ronan, knife clutched in my hand, but I was already cornered. Two rogues broke through the brush at once, their eyes gleaming, teeth bared in an attempt to intimidate and scare me.

The one on the left lunged for me.

Acting on instinct, my arm slashed out, blade grazing his shoulder. The other male came from the right and seized my arm. His grip was iron, wrenching me off balance. I stumbled, my own growl choked before it even left my throat.

“Alive,” the first gritted out. “Don’t kill her.”

They weren’t here to rip me apart, they wanted to drag me away. Chains, darkness, Asher’s prisoner…my mind spun with all the ways this could end.

I thrashed, kicking, the knife slipping from my hand as claws dug into my arm. For one heartbeat I thought this was it, that I’d be hauled into the woods and vanish.

But then Ronan moved.

He was terrifying in his fury. His blade punched clean through the first rogue’s chest. He tore me free from the second’s grip, shoving me behind him with a force that knocked the air from my lungs.

“Stay down!” he barked, his voice hoarse but unyielding.

I crumpled to the dirt, shaking, as he turned on the rogues with the last of his strength.

It wasn’t a fight so much as a frenzy. Ronan fought like a man who had nothing left to lose, his body acting on instinct alone.

The rogues snarled, lunged, and faltered. They were completely unprepared for the feral determination of a male who refused to fall.

The clearing filled with the sound of flesh tearing, bones breaking, and Ronan’s ragged growls.

When the last Rogue finally fled, limping into the trees with a trail of blood behind him, Ronan dropped to his knees.

I crawled to him, heart pounding, hands reaching without thought. His skin was pale beneath the streaks of red, his breaths short and shallow. He looked worse than before, closer to death.

“You’ll kill yourself fighting like this,” I whispered, clutching his shoulders, terrified by the heat burning off him.

He caught my arms, holding me steady even as his strength faltered. His eyes burned into mine, desperate.

“If we stay here, they’ll take you. Next time he’ll send more and I won’t be fast enough. If they get you,” His voice cracked. He swallowed hard, shaking his head. “You and the child won’t survive.”

The finality in his tone sent a chill through me. He was giving me the truth, raw and brutal. Just like he promised he would.

“We can’t stay hidden here anymore,” he went on, his grip tightening as though to force the words into me. “We need people. Eyes. A village. Somewhere you’re not alone when I can’t…”

The thought of exposing myself to more eyes, more potential danger, made my stomach twist. But the command to take me alive, made the decision for me.

I bowed my head, trembling. “All right,” I whispered.

His hold on me loosened, and the relief in his face nearly broke me. He sagged forward, leaning against me as though the fight had finally drained the last of his strength.

I held him upright, my own body shaking, and stared into the dark line of trees where the Rogues had vanished.

Next time, Ronan might not be able to save me. But for now, we still had a choice. If we wanted to live, we had to take it.

And if Ronan was to live, I needed to stitch him up. Right now.