His scream stayed lodged in my head long after his body went limp.

“It’s a fever,” I croaked, fear catching in my throat.

“A what?” Harry shot me a confused look as I stepped out from behind him.

“An extreme rise in temperature. I felt it last night too. He’s going to die,” I said, eyes fixed on Thorne as he writhed in pain.

“He should just agree to Sire Killian’s demands, he won’t be able to…” Harry kept talking, but his words scattered past me.

“Water,” I whispered.

I could still feel the heat of last night inside my skin, and the only thing I had wanted then was cold water cooling my flesh before I could explode.

“He needs water,” I repeated, tapping Harry’s arm.

“Then let’s get water,” he said, finally understanding.

In the suffocating darkness of the tunnel-like passage, we rushed up the stairs until we reached the gate.

“Water! Bring water in the firkins!” Harry barked at the guards lining the hallway.

Immediately, barrel-shaped containers were rolled out from the shadows.

I’d once thought they were decorations. Now I know they were emergency tools for crises like this.

The barrels thundered down the stairs toward the underground cell, guards rolling them while Harry and I followed close behind.

When we reached the bottom, the air changed. The crowd was frozen in place. Something had gotten worse while we were gone.

Under the dim light and stifling heat, Thorne’s skin wasn’t just sweating… it was leaking. Thick fluid poured from him in streams.

I thought it was sweat. I was wrong. He was bleeding.

He looked like he was hanging onto his last breath.

He wasn’t supposed to look human.

He wasn’t supposed to bleed.

He wasn’t supposed to break.

Even Killian stood speechless, horror flickering across his face. He knew exactly how much trouble he’d be in if Thorne died here.

“Pour the water on him already!” I yelled the moment I saw the guards hesitating.

His breathing came in shallow hacks, like his lungs were being crushed. We could hear his heartbeat slamming through his chest, and the heat still rolled off him like wildfire.

“Shhhhh…” The sizzling sound of the first barrel hitting his skin made all of us flinch.

Was he melting?

What I saw didn’t look like Thorne. It was something helpless, something stripped of pride and power. Like a wounded pup left to die.

His muffled cry as the water hit him cracked something in me. He must have been through hell before we got here. Even though I didn’t know the nature of his curse, even though I disliked him, I couldn’t stand watching him suffer.

And the way he looked at me, eyes raw with longing and pain, just before he muttered that unfamiliar name…

It didn’t feel like a call. It felt like he was reaching.

And my body answered.

My heartbeat tripled, my skin shivered, my veins surged with something sharp and electric. My hands ached to hold him.

Why? Why would I feel this for someone I was certain I hated? Why did he look at me like that before collapsing? Why does every part of me tense when I hear the name he called…Nyra? And why did he sound like someone else when he said it?

I had questions…but all I could think about was keeping him alive.

Maybe I was losing my mind.

I knelt beside him carefully. The heat coming off his body should’ve scorched me, but it barely stung.

I placed my palm on his arm. His temperature was still boiling.

“More water!” I called, and the guards rushed to obey.

And it worked.

Not instantly, slowly, his body stopped blistering. His breathing steadied. The bleeding ended, though there wasn’t a single wound on him.

I sat close, patting his arm gently, like a mother calming a child, until he finally slipped into unconsciousness.

That was when I felt the change in the air. The stares. Suspicion replaced fear in the eyes watching us.

“Bring her out,” the commander snapped, turning away as if desperate to leave, furious for reasons I couldn’t read.

Was he angry that I helped Thorne? Or did he just naturally hate me?

I didn’t wait for the guards to drag me. I stood on my own and followed him up the stairs.

If they were taking me anywhere, I wasn’t going like a prisoner. I’d walk myself.

But once we got outside, the commander’s irritation deepened.

“I said bring her. I didn’t say she could walk,” he growled. The guards tensed, ready to lay hands on me.

But Killian stepped in.

“Lay a hand on her and you won’t see home again,” he said, voice low but deadly.

The guards froze. They’d clearly seen him follow through on threats before.

“If we can’t take Thorne, we’ll take the She instead. I can’t go back to the Alpha empty-handed, and you stopping us is considered…”

“It’s considered nothing,” Killian cut in smoothly. “You’re out of line. She’s a royal servant. You can’t take her unless her master approves. You know the rules.”

They were arguing like judges in a courtroom.

“What do you mean? She’s not a servant,” the commander scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“She’s Thorne’s servant,” Killian said, calm and final. “And I don’t think he would be able to give you permission right now. Go home. When he’s ready to speak, I’ll summon you for the permit. Until then, I’m not handing her over behind her master’s back.”

He finished with a smug, victorious smirk.

The commander said nothing.. but his eyes were vicious, tearing through Killian before snapping to me.

Something in that stare promised trouble.

The commander’s eyes didn’t leave me, sharp and heavy with unspoken suspicion.

It wasn’t just anger.. It was calculation, silent questions he dared not speak aloud. I held his gaze, steady and unyielding, letting him feel the weight of my presence.

One thing was certain: he wouldn’t forget me, and whatever thoughts stirred behind those eyes could ignite a storm far bigger than any of us were ready for.