“I’ll call a servant for you.” Interest gone, he takes a large step back.
I just want him to leave. I shake my head and mumble, “I-I just need sl-sleep.” I flee into my room, shutting the door in his face.
Chapter
Twenty-Three
NISSA
I’m buried under my fur-lined cape and every blanket in the room when I hear a muffled knock. While I didn’t want Caspien to call a servant, I’m thankful someone is here to light a fire. I don’t have the strength through the cold to do it myself. Even my powers seem frozen in my veins.
The teeth chattering has barely subsided enough for me to call out a weak, “Come in.”
The door creaks open behind me.
“Can you pl-please light the fire?” I manage.
“What the hell, Lila?” a deep voice growls.
The relief of hearing Cillian is overwhelming. I want to cry, but truly believe the tears would freeze on my cheeks.
He is kneeling in front of me seconds later. “What did he do?” he grinds out as he cradles my hand. He instantly jerks away, his face shifting from anger to utter shock as he stares at my icy fingers.
“I’m s-sick,” I’m able to get out between more tremors.
His eyes grow wider as he grabs my hand again, this time holding it tight and covering it with his other. I let out a broken whimper when the heat from his skin seeps into my fingertips.
“Am I hurting you?” he asks.
I close my eyes and shake my head. “Helps,” is all my tired body can get out.
“I’m going to light the fire for you.” He begins to stand.
I clutch his fingers with the little strength I have. “No, please. Don’t leave me.”
He looks across the room at the fireplace, but I can’t let go of the little heat he is giving me.
“What can I do?” He crouches back down in front of me.
“In the drawer, get me…” I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to clear the fog in my brain. “The echinacea and… goldenseal tinctures.” I shiver through the words.
Keeping one hand on me, he digs through the herbal remedies I have in the table next to the bed. When he finds the right ones, a broken cry escapes me when I attempt to sit up.
“I have you.” He twists the amber bottles open, gently places a hand under my head, and lifts it. “Open,” he quietly instructs.
I obey, and he uses the dropper to give me the needed amount of the tinctures. After lowering me gently back to the pillow, he closes the bottles and sets them on the table next to me. My eyes fall shut, but I can feel him watching me as he pulls the blankets up to my chin.
I open my eyes and see what looks like a new resolve wash through him. He quickly crawls over my body and climbs under the covers with me. Taking one of my hands, he wraps himself around me and covers us both back up. If I didn’t actually believe I could be dying, I would appreciate how well we fit together when he settles against my back.
Then my back bows, and I cry out as cold and heat clash through our clothes. He pulls me tighter into him, and I try to suck in a ragged breath through the pain.
“You need the heat. You’re okay, you’re going to be okay,” he murmurs into my hair.
I can’t tell if he’s trying to reassure me or himself, but it helps me pull the wind deeper into my lungs. It only takes moments before our combined body heat begins to release my tensed muscles. I relax into his embrace. My eyelids are heavy, cold and sleep pulling me under.
The last thing I remember is his gentle whisper. “Lila.”
The sun is barely comingthrough the windows when something wakes me. I lie there for a moment, trying to get my bearings. The rattle of glass drags my attention to the corner of my room.
