Rowan had thought that after finding Aelin-after finally getting her back, defeating Maeve, killing Cairn-everything would get easier. Everything would be a downhill battle from there on out.

Rowan had never been so wrong in his entire life.

Aelin was with him again, healing and resting and alive. She was alive. Not a day would go by that Rowan wouldn't thank the gods for that fact. but something was wrong. Aelin was alive . . . but she wasn't living. At first, Rowan had thought it was because of what Maeve had done to her. And he know that was part of it, but he also knew it wasn't all of it, either. Fingers clenching into fists, Rowan had to release a shaky breath. Thoughts of Maeve still made his blood boil with rage. Sometimes he found himself wishing that his old mistress was still alive-if only to tear her apart with his bare hands.

Aelin whimpered in her sleep, snapping Rowan sharply back into the present.

Reaching out to place a gentle hand on her brow, he checked her temperature for the fifth time that day. It had gone down over the past few days, but was still hotter than usual. Summoning a breeze, he tried keeping her body cool. This, at least, he understood. Aelin's back, which had been torn open and open again by Cairn, had become infected due to the conditions she'd been forced to live in. And even with her Fae heritage to stave off the worst of it, not even that could completely protect her from the wreaked her body. Thankfully, Gavriel was an amazing healer and had done wonders cleaning the infected areas and keeping her hydrated and her fever down. It was because of the Lion of Doranelle that Aelin could be awake and conscious for more than half the day.

A shadow passed over Rowan's face. Aelin was awake . . . but wasn't. Her eyes would be open, yes, and she'd respond to her name, but mostly she just stared, unseeingly, at whatever was in front of her. She hadn't spoken, hadn't laughed, hadn't cracked a smile since the two mates had reunited. Rowan would give anything just to hear her call him buzzard again. Rowan didn't understand it. No one did. Rowan couldn't explain it. No one could. Gavriel had suggested heading to the Southern continent-bring her to its famous healers. Rowan wasn't sure they could help.

Aelin's body shuddered once, then without warning, she began convulsing on their bed. Mouth opening in a silent scream, Aelin tried to fight her way out of whatever nightmare was plaguing her. Holding her down by her shoulders, Rowan kept a steady stream of air inflating and deflating her lungs. Once, a few nights ago, she stopped breathing during an episode similar to this. Rowan's blood had turned ice cold and his heart had stopped. He didn't know what caused her lungs to give out then, but their failure was something he wouldn't allow a second time.

It were nights like these that had him wishing for the days when he woke up to find their bed on fire, but ever since the abduction, Aelin's nightmares had turned inward and tormented only her. She no longer called out, either. She used to. Before, she used to call out to Rowan in her sleep. Now her mouth would open, but no scream and no name would pour out.

"Aelin," he called. He was so close now that his breath fanned her face and blew some hair from her face. Her back arched and he climbed atop her to keep her from flailing off the bed. "Aelin," he called again, his voice breaking as he begged for her to hear him. "Fireheart, please, wake up!"

Aelin's eyes snapped open and her breathing evened out. "Fireheart?" He pressed his forehead to hers, beseeching her to see him. "Aelin?" She blinked once. Twice. Thrice. Her body began to tremble and her eyes darted around the room frantically. Small, pathetic noises escaped her mouth and with every inhale he took, Rowan could smell her fear. "Shh, shh," he soothed, bringing a hand up to cup her cheek. "It's okay, Aelin. It's okay. You're safe. It's okay."

Her eyes locked onto his, staring deeply into their green depths, and she seemed to find some comfort there because the small noises escaping her ceased and the trembling lessened. Kissing the side of her brow, Rowan whispered into her ear. "You're safe, Aelin. Fireheart. It's okay. Everything is going to be okay." Pulling back to look into her eyes again, Rowan's heart faltered. A dull glaze had fallen over them like a veil as she stared blankly up at the room's ceiling. Burrowing into the crook of her neck, he repeated, "Everything is going to be okay," but this time, he didn't know if he was saying it to her . . . or to himself.