CHAPTER 113: WANT TO LIE ON A BED INSTEAD?

For a moment, after what Rion had just said and with his half-lidded eyes staring right into my soul, I couldn’t move.

I couldn’t even breathe properly, let alone find the words to respond. He looked so still, so calm, and yet everything about him screamed wrong.

But then it hit me again. This wasn’t some fleeting, intimate moment. This was life and death.

"Didn’t you hear me?" My voice shook as panic rose in my chest. "I think my blood isn’t working! You will die if we don’t do anything about it. It may take some time for the poison to kill you, but your internal organs will already be damaged, and who knows what chance you’ll have to recover? I need to leave you for a moment, I’ll get Keigan—"

A low chuckle slipped out of him, stopping me. My hand fell away from his cheek, dropping at my side.

I stared at him, frowning. He still had the energy to laugh? He looked so weak that I doubted he could even stand without collapsing, and here he was acting like something about this was funny.

When the sound faded, his lips curved faintly.

"It makes my heart swell in happiness," he murmured, "to know that you worry for me so much."

My stomach twisted. The way he phrased it... it didn’t sit right.

"I-I’m just worried that your people will blame me if you die!" I blurted, words tumbling faster than I could control them. "Do you even know what killing an alpha means? Besides, you promised me protection. Who’s going to protect me without you?"

I was rambling, and I knew it, but panic made it impossible to stop. My thoughts were a mess, my chest too tight.

His smirk deepened, though it was weaker than usual.

"You can protect yourself well if you just grow stronger." His eyes, even dimmed with poison, held that unshakable certainty. "I know you can do it."

Something in me stuttered.

"What about your people, then?" My voice softened, but the frustration bled through. "The Undercity needs you, especially with the war coming, you foolish alpha."

The last few words came out barely more than a whisper, but I knew he heard it. His ears never missed a thing. Still, I didn’t take the words back.

Then, without warning, Rion shifted and laid flat on his back.

I jolted, instantly moving closer to his side, my heart thudding in panic. "Rion?"

His eyes closed. His chest rose and fell unevenly.

"What’s happening? Tell me, Rion." My voice was firmer this time, though the edge of a tremor still clung to it. I tried to sound like I had authority, but truthfully, fear was chewing at me from the inside out.

I hovered so close now I could feel the faint warmth still left in his body, the weak rhythm of his breathing. If he slipped further, if the poison was winning, then no words, no smirks, no arrogance would save him.

And that terrified me more than I wanted to admit.

"Let me rest for a moment. Your blood is doing its work, don’t worry."

For a second, relief flickered through me at his words.

But when I brushed the back of my hand against his, the relief faded as quickly as it came. He was still cold. Too cold.

His complexion was pale, almost gray under the glow of the greenhouse light, and his chest rose and fell far too quickly, as if he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. If this was my blood working, it didn’t look like it.

"You seem to be enjoying touching me a little too much," he murmured, his voice unexpectedly warm, even laced with humor for someone who had just poisoned himself. "If you want, you can lie here beside me and share your warmth. Now that is something I’d appreciate."

I scowled down at him, then at the ground he was lying on. "Lying here on the dirt?"

His lips curled faintly, but his eyes stayed closed. That gave me the rare chance to look freely at his face without worrying about his sharp gaze catching me in the act.

"Do you want to lie on a bed instead?" he asked, his tone dipping into something almost too sensual for the situation.

Damn you, Rion Morrigan, I cursed silently, heat prickling at my cheeks.

Instead of answering that, I bit out, "Are you sure it’s working? You don’t look well."

"It’s fine as long as I still look handsome."

"It’s not funny."

"I’m not trying to be funny," he said, lips twitching. "Not at all."

I let out a long sigh and lowered myself beside him, careful to leave a couple of inches of space between us. My knees were bent up in front of me, and I rested my hands there, trying to look anywhere but at him—though my eyes kept sliding back every few seconds like a bad habit.

For a while, the greenhouse was silent, just the faint drip of condensation from the glass walls and the uneven sound of his breathing.

Then Rion’s voice broke through, softer this time.

"You don’t have to be so worried. Something as silly as poison can’t kill me."

Then why does your voice sound so weak? I thought bitterly. Too proud, that was what he was. Too stubborn to admit that like any other person, he too, could have a moment of weakness.

I opened my mouth to argue, but before I could get a word out, a strong grip closed around my wrist.

"Rion—!" I gasped, but the next thing I knew, he tugged me down hard, and I landed against his chest.

My palms flattened against him, and I froze, utterly dumbfounded by the sudden closeness. His heartbeat thudded faintly under my ear, quick and uneven.

I was still reeling when a voice came from the greenhouse entrance.

"What’s—"

I whipped my head around, and my stomach dropped.

Ares and Diaval stood there.

Diaval’s lips were parted slightly, his brows raised in disbelief, while Ares’s mouth hung open so wide I thought it might unhinge.

Then, in classic Ares fashion, his hand shot up to cover his gaping mouth, though the sparkle in his eyes gave away how badly he was holding back a laugh.