The poison did not fade.
It evolved.
By dawn, Ivy’s condition worsened.
Her skin burned fever-hot, veins glowing faint gold beneath the surface. Her breathing came in shallow, ragged gasps. The bond between her and Rowan twisted violently, sending searing agony through his chest with every faltering beat of her heart.
Rowan refused to leave her side.
He knelt beside her bed, his hands gripping the sheets so tightly the fabric tore.
“Fix her,” he snarled at the healers. “Do something.”
The lead healer trembled. “Your Majesty… the poison is ancient. It doesn’t kill outright. It unravels her from the inside, forcing her power to consume itself.”
Rowan’s vision blurred.
“What does that mean?”
“She will burn herself to death.”
Rage exploded inside him.
“There must be a way.”
The he
