"Seeing you like this is making me feel bad that you took the hit for me," Lilith said, pulling a smile from Aria's lips.
But even that small smile faded fast. Aria's head sank slightly against the pillow, her breath stuttering. It was barely noticeable, the way her chest moved — like each inhale took effort. Lilith tightened her grip on her hands.
"Don't do that," Lilith whispered. "Don't fall back again."
Aria didn't answer. Her eyes were open, but distant, a dull sheen passing over them, as if she was watching something far off — or nothing at all.
Caden stepped into the room, his expression tight, holding Mirela in his arms. The child had been unusually restless all morning, shifting and fussing even under layers of charm-protected cloth. Her face was flushed, but not with fever — more like frustration. She was cooing one second and whimpering the next.
