Alpha Kael shoved the heavy wood door open into Isla's room, concern etched in his brow. In the dim light of early evening, he found her lying on her bed, her skin flushed and burning with fever. The spark of her eyes that once shined so bright had been dulled by exhaustion, and the determinate set to her mouth had been twisted in pain. He approached quietly, each measured step betraying the turmoil within.
Isla," he said in a low, strained voice, dropping to his knees beside the bed. His tone was both concerned and scolding as he reached out and gently brushed a damp strand of hair off her forehead. "Why didn't you rest? Why did you fight the fever?
Isla's sleep-heavy eyes fluttered open and struggled to make a smile appear. "I-I fought it," she weakly managed to get out-the words barel
