Eira's pov
The fever returned like a wave crashing over me, salt and blood stinging my eyes in the memory of a nightmare I could never seem to wake from.
I saw him again. Felix. My fiancé. My husband. Standing just a few steps ahead of me in the streetlight's dim glow. His smile,it was crooked, charming, familiar. My safety. My center. And then, in a blink, it was gone.
The sound of the gunshot echoed louder than thunder.
My scream clawed out of my throat as his body jerked backward, crumpling like paper soaked in red. His eyes stayed on me until the light vanished. And standing behind the smoking barrel was him.
Draven.
The man with cold eyes and colder hands. His face was unreadable as he looked at me across Felix dying body, the gun still hot in his grip. And when I dropped to my knees, crying, cradling Felix head, it was Draven's voice that cut through the chaos.
"Bird," he had said. "You weren't supposed to be here."
Bird.
He used that name like a hook in my spine. Sweet and cruel all at once.
I jerked awake, a gasp tearing from my lungs as the sheets tangled around my body like vines trying to choke me.
Sweat drenched my skin, my nightgown clinging to my chest, damp strands of hair plastered to my forehead. I was trembling from the inside out, heart racing like it was trying to run out of my chest.
The room swam before me. Dim light bled from the hallway. My vision struggled to focus.
And then… I saw him.
Draven.
Sitting beside my bed like a silent sentinel. A shadow, solid and haunting. One hand gripped a damp cloth, and he was using it,gently,to dab the sweat from my face. His fingers trembled slightly, and for a moment, I wondered if it was the fever distorting my perception.
He didn't speak.
Not immediately.
And neither did I.
I was too weak to scream. Too confused to move. My body ached, and my skin burned as if the fever was licking its way through every vein.
"Why?" I croaked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He hesitated, hand midair. His face twitched with something,pain? Regret?
"I never wanted this," he murmured.
His voice didn't sound like Draven's. Not the one who barked orders and made blood a currency. Not the one who watched people suffer with an unreadable stare.
This voice was human. Raw.
"What did you want then?" I asked, blinking back a fresh wave of tears.
His jaw tightened. "Not this," he repeated. "Not your pain."
My breath caught.
He practically fed off my pain!
And for the first time since this nightmare began, I didn't see the monster who shattered my life. I saw a man,tired, worn, frayed around the edges. Something inside him had cracked open, spilling just enough truth to make me hesitate.
That scared me more than any of his threats ever had.
"I won't fall for you," I whispered, voice cracking. "Not after what you've done."
His eyes met mine. Not challenging. Not defensive. Just still. Quiet.
"I don't expect you to," he said softly. "I just want to make it right."
I stared at him. My heart throbbed in confusion.
"Make it right?" I asked. "You think wiping my face and whispering confessions at my bedside will erase everything? Will bring Felix and my family back?"
He looked down at his hands. "No," he said. "But I can try to stop the rest of it. The lies. The ones who used you. The ones still coming."
My lips parted, but nothing came out. I didn't know what to say to that.
He gently placed the cloth on the nightstand and stood up. For a brief second, I hated how his absence felt colder than the fever ever could.
I closed my eyes and breathed in slow. My throat was dry, like it had been scraped with sandpaper.
"…Can I have my phone?"
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
He turned to me again, and the shift was instant. The warmth, the softness,it was gone. Just like that.
A wall went up behind his eyes.
"No."
Just one word.
But it dropped into the room like a grenade.
I frowned. "Draven..."
"No," he said again, firmer now. "You're not ready."
"You don't get to decide that!" I tried to sit up, but the weakness pinned me down. "It's my life, my body, my phone,"
"And it's my war," he snapped. "You have no idea who's watching. Who's waiting for a slip."
"Then tell me!" I yelled, coughing mid-sentence. "Stop treating me like a child! Stop playing savior when you're the one who shattered everything!"
He looked at me then. Really looked. As if the truth I'd just thrown at him had landed with more force than any bullet.
And still… he didn't speak.
He turned, walked to the door, and opened it. Cold air rushed in.
I gritted my teeth, fury boiling in my veins now. "You can control the world, Draven. But you don't get to control me."
His jaw clenched. But he didn't look back.
He walked out.
And the door clicked shut behind him like a coffin sealing.
I stared at that door. My heart thundered against my ribs.
And then,
I lost it.
"Eternal damnations on your soul, Draven!" I shouted. "May every shadow you crawl through swallow you whole! May your empire turn to dust and your name to ash!"
Silence.
I sobbed, biting down on the edge of the pillow to stop the sound from escaping, but the pain,oh, the pain,was louder than anything.
Because somewhere in the blur of all this chaos, I had seen something real in his eyes. Something human. And that, more than anything, threatened to break me.
Because I hated him.
I hated what he'd done.
But I didn't hate that moment.
And that terrified me.