Elis
I lay there, weak and burning, the weight of fever pressing me deeper into the mattress. The chamber spun, shadows warping into strange shapes that mocked me. My breath came in shallow bursts, every inhale scraping like fire.
The door creaked, and through the haze I saw Eunice step inside. Her face was tight with worry, her hands trembling as she wrung the edge of her gown.
"Elis," she whispered, moving closer. "Why will you not let me call Lily? You need her more now than ever. Why have you forbidden me to summon her? And why do you have her locked away, heavily guarded in her chamber? This suffering is too much for you."
Her words clawed at me, and I wanted to tell her the truth—that the one in that chamber was not Lily at all, only a hollow shell. But how could I? Who would believe me in this madness? I turned my head away, ashamed of the sweat that slicked my skin, ashamed of the weakness that consumed me.
"No," I muttered, forcing the word through cracked lips. My voice was no more than a rasp. "Leave her out of this."
Eunice knelt beside me, her eyes wide with hurt. "Elis, please. You are breaking before my eyes. Let her come—if not for healing, then at least to give you strength."
My chest tightened, not just with fever but with a grief I could not share. If she saw me like this, broken and delirious, what hope would remain for her? The true Lily was beyond reach, and the thought of gazing at her empty shell in this state… it would crush what little hope I had left.
"I don't… want her to see me like this," I barely muttered, my tongue heavy as stone.
The edges of the room bled into darkness. Eunice's voice called my name, urgent and distant, but I was already slipping—falling into that suffocating abyss where dreams and torment were one.
And all I could think as the shadows swallowed me was her name. Lily.
The world was a blur of fever and shadow, my body little more than a weight pinned to the bed. I could not move. Could scarcely breathe. Yet even in my weakness, voices bled into my ears, low and urgent. I stilled, though I could not so much as open my eyes. They thought I was unconscious.
"Douglas," Eunice's voice trembled, strained with exhaustion. "It grows worse each day. His fever doesn't break. The healers… they've all tried, but nothing holds."
I heard Douglas sigh, the sound of a man carrying too much weight. "The palace is in chaos. The council of elders is split. One side—Jose at their head—insists Elis is cursed, that he cannot survive this ailment. They whisper he should be… disposed of."
My heart clenched, the words slicing through me like ice. Douglas's voice dropped lower. "Jose even volunteers himself as the next king."
Eunice gasped, fury breaking through her grief. "Dispose of him? While he still breathes? That is treason…"
"But the other half resists," Douglas cut in quickly. "They argue Elis is strong. That as long as he draws breath, he is king, and no one should dare speak of replacement. For now… the matter is at a standstill."
A silence hung between them, heavy as stone.
Finally, Eunice's voice broke again, quiet, almost a whisper. "But what if they're right, Douglas? What if the healers cannot save him? What if…"
"Enough." His tone hardened, though grief was buried within. "We do not give up on him. Not yet."
I wanted to speak. To tell Eunice I was still here, still fighting. That Jose would never sit on this throne while I breathed. But my tongue was heavy, my chest so tight I feared the air would never come again.
The darkness took me before I could force a single word.
When I opened my eyes again, hours had passed. The light had shifted; the fire burned lower in the hearth. My limbs were heavy, my throat parched. And there she was.
Zeena.
She sat beside me, her presence quiet, her hands delicate as she pressed a damp towel to my brow. Her touch was soft, tender even, and for a moment, half-dreaming as I was, I almost believed it was care.
Her smile was gentle when she saw me stir. "You are burning up, Alpha King," she whispered. "But I'm here. I will not leave you."
I wanted to tell her to go away. To banish her from my side. But no sound came, only a shallow rasp lost in my chest.
So I lay there, silently, her hand cool on my burning skin—while unease coiled low in me, a warning I could not speak.
The night air pressed heavy on my chest, thick with the scent of burning oil from the lamp by my bed. My body was fevered, weak, every breath dragging like a weight across my ribs. In my half-conscious haze, I whispered the only name that anchored me:
"...Lily..."
A soft hand brushed against my damp hair. Zeena's voice poured like honey over my ear.
"She is not here, Elis," she murmured. "She left you… she cannot protect you anymore. Only I can."
Something in her tone made my heart twitch. It wasn't the warmth of comfort anymore; it was sharper, darker. I forced my eyes open, but they blurred, catching only the glint of her smile in the lamplight.
Her fingers slipped to my chest, to the chain resting there — Lily's locket, the only shield keeping Zal's curse from devouring me whole.
"You don't need her," she whispered, the edges of her words jagged now. "You need me. Only me."
"No..." My voice cracked, no stronger than a breath. My hand twitched, reaching for hers, but it was like fighting through stone. My body would not obey.
The clasp scraped faintly — a sound that stabbed through me more than pain ever could. She was undoing it. Stealing Lily's gift.
The room spun. My chest tightened. If she pulled it free, I knew I wouldn't last till dawn.
Then—The door crashed open.
"Elis!" Eunice's voice ripped through the shadows. In an instant she was at my side, her hand latching onto Zeena's wrist with such fury it startled me.
"What are you doing?" Eunice hissed, her eyes blazing. "That locket is his life!"
Zeena's eyes widened, but not with guilt — with calculation. She pulled back, clutching the chain as if she were shielding it.
"I—I wasn't stealing it!" she cried, tears springing like an actress on cue. "I only meant to fix it! It looked loose, I swear!"
But I had seen her smile before Eunice burst in. That glint of victory. And in my bones, I knew.
The commotion drew half the palace guard, maids spilling into the doorway with wide, suspicious eyes.
Eunice stood like a shield before me, her voice shaking with righteous anger.
"She was taking the locket from him! She would have killed him!"
Gasps rippled through the servants. But Zeena only fell to her knees, face buried in her palms, her sobs echoing off the walls.
"How could you accuse me of such wickedness?" she wailed, her voice trembling perfectly. "I love him! I sat by his side while everyone else abandoned him. And this—this is my reward? Accusations and slander?"
Murmurs spread. Some frowned at Eunice, muttering about jealousy. Others looked at me, waiting, desperate for my word.
I tried to speak, tried to tell them what I'd seen but the curse weighed heavy on my tongue, crushing every word into silence. My chest burned with helplessness.
Still, I was grateful when Eunice entered at that moment and saved the chain that was still keeping me alive