Page 171 of The Throne Seeker

He was worse than she’d feared. His amber eyes had dimmed to a dull brown—their life was all but faded, so sickly they’d sunk into their sockets, leaving a deep dark-purple ring around them. The pigment of his skin had faded into a ghostly pale shade and a wheeze escaped his lips with every breath.

It was as though he was dying before her eyes.

Pure panic sieged her from within.

“He says he’s exhausted, but he won’t sleep,” Gretta expounded with a distressed sob. “And he keeps complaining his lungs hurt, but nothing’s wrong with them.”

Rose studied him with desperate eyes. Although she knew a great deal about healing, she was no expert. The fear that the Dragonshade was still in his system resurfaced. He needed someone more experienced. She didn’t have time to experiment.

Rose turned to Gretta. “I don’t care what he wants. Call for a healer.”

“No,” Roman wheezed.

Her and Gretta’s heads snapped to him. The order was supposed to be firm, but in his weakened state, his voice was barely a whisper.

“Gretta… leave us,” he whispered.

Rose glared down at him, wondering how he could be so stubborn. “Roman, you need help.”

He shook his head slowly. “No… Gretta, just… go.”

Rose looked at Gretta, ignoring him. “Go then and send for a healer.Now.”

Gretta didn’t need to be told again, leaving at full speed.

Rose grabbed the sheets, lifting them to examine his body, ensuring she wasn’t missing anything. “You stubborn ass,” she muttered, putting them back down, trying to hide the worry in her voice. “You survived Dragonshade, but you want to die now?” She put her hand on his forehead to check for a fever—he was ice cold.

He leaned into her palm and he closed his eyes as if he craved it—as if he needed it to survive. “Lay… Come… lay with me,” he rasped. His clammy hand reached for hers. “Please.”

Rose stood shocked by the vulnerability shining through him. He acted as though he was powerless before her, looked at her as though if she let go of his hand, if she denied him, he’d die right there and then.

Something deep within her dragged her into the bed.

Roman didn’t waste a moment before he crushed her into his cold chest. One hand slid up into her hair, cradling her head, while the other dug into her back, pressing her so fiercely into him it felt as though he was gripping for his life.

She stiffened against him, stunned by his sudden desperation. But after a moment, she wrapped her arms around his neck, instincts kicking in as she combed her fingers through his hair, attempting to soothe him.

He rested the bridge of his nose against her hair and took his first deep breath since she’d entered the room—smelling her, she realized, breathing her in like she was the only oxygen left in the room.

The knowledge set her soul ablaze.

He moved down to her neck, his lips lightly brushing her skin as he spoke. “I… I need you to stay.”

It was at that moment she realized she had an enormous weakness for him.

“I’ll stay as long as you want me to,” she whispered.

They laid there, simply savoring the feeling of each other’s weight as she did her best not to let her mind wander to places it shouldn’t. Guilt sunk in as she realized how much she had missed sleeping beside him, how she had missed having him selfishly like this.

She reprimanded herself; she ought to seek a remedy or diagnosis for his condition—some kind of cure—rather than take advantage of him in his weakened state. But somehow… a stronger inner instinct told her to stay just as he’d asked.

She lifted her chin to look at him, only to find him asleep.Asleep.Relief flooded her. It was a small mercy.

Half an hour passed and Gretta returned, about to speak until she saw them.

“He’s asleep,” Gretta whispered through the darkness, awestruck, looking back and forth at the pair. “How’d you get him to sleep?”

“I have no idea,” Rose whispered back. “One minute, he asked me to come to lay next to him, and the next, he was out cold.”