Zayn pushed the door open quietly.
The room was dim, warm, and still. A soft lamp glowed in the corner. Lily was curled up on the bed, wrapped in layers of blankets. Her skin wasn’t flushed anymore. The fever had finally broken, but her face looked pale and drawn.
Talia sat beside the bed, checking Lily’s pulse while Martha stood nearby with her arms crossed.
“She’s stable now,” Talia said, glancing up when she noticed Zayn entering. “Fever’s down. But she’s still weak. She needs rest, fluids, and someone to stay with her.”
“I’ll take over,” Zayn said.
Martha raised a brow. “You sure?”
Talia gave him a long look, then slowly nodded. “Alright. But call if anything changes.”
“We’ll be nearby,” Martha added, though her tone was laced with reluctance.
They both walked out quietly, shutting the door behind them.
Zayn stood there for a second, just watching her. Her chest rose and fell softly under the blankets. Her lips were chapped. Her small hands rested against her stomach.
She didn’t wake, but her brow twitched slightly at the sound of his voice.
Zayn sat by her bed, her hand resting lightly in his. His thumb moved in slow, steady circles over her knuckles, trying to bring warmth back to her skin. Against his own, she was ice cold.
Lily didn’t stir. Her fingers barely twitched in his grasp, like her body was there, but her soul was still stuck somewhere far away.
Zayn adjusted the blankets again, tucking them around her more securely. “You’re safe now,” he said quietly. “I’ve got you.”
But then her eyelids fluttered. It didn’t open, but her eyes were darting underneath, fast and frantic.
Her lips moved too, like she was trying to speak, but no sound came. Her breathing turned shallow, her chest rose in uneven gasps.
Zayn froze. He understood what was happening.
“Lily?” he called softly, leaning closer. “It’s okay. It’s just a dream.”
She didn’t hear him. Her head jerked slightly, as if she was flinching from something. Her other hand clenched the sheets.
“Lily,” he said again, more firmly now, cupping her cheek.
Her face was pale, and her brows furrowed. It was like she was trapped in something dark, something she couldn’t claw her way out of.
Zayn’s breath caught in his throat.
He could still remember the weight of silver chains biting into his wrists. The chill of the stone floor. The smell of blood. He could still hear the screams, some from others, some were his own.
He shut his eyes for a second, trying to steady his own heartbeat.
When he opened them again, her face was still tense and afraid.
“I know what it feels like,” he said quietly. “When the nightmare follows you even after you wake up. When the pain doesn’t stop just because the day restarts.”
“I lived it. I still do.”
Her body twitched again, and this time her fingers curled faintly around his.
Zayn exhaled slowly, brushing a damp strand of hair from her forehead. free\we,bnovel.c o(m)
“You’re not alone,” he whispered.
The candle flickered, throwing long shadows across the room. A sudden strong gust of wind blew in from the window, snuffing out the only light source in the room.
Her body jerked upright, eyes wide, chest heaving. She looked around in a panic, breath catching in her throat. Her hand yanked back from his as if burned.
"Lily! Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe."
But she didn’t hear him.
Her gaze darted wildly around the room, landing on the dark corners.
She reached blindly for the nightstand, her trembling fingers fumbling around until she felt the ridges of a small paper box. She was looking for matches.
Her hands shook too much. She dropped the box once, twice, before she finally managed to strike a match.
It lit, then blew out.
Zayn rose slowly, not wanting to startle her, but she was already on the verge of a meltdown. Her hands moved too fast, the match scraping uselessly against the box as she tried to relight the candle.
"Lily, it’s alright. Let me help."
She shook her head, lips moving but no sound coming out. Her eyes were wide and full of fear, and her whole body trembled.
Zayn stepped closer. "Let me help. Please. Just breathe."
She wouldn’t look at him.
He gently took the match from her hand and struck it. The second the flame ignited, Lily’s breathing eased just a little. Her eyes followed the light, and relief was evident on her face.
He set the match aside and glanced at her. “Better?”
She gave a small nod, still clutching the edge of the blanket.
Her chest rose and fell in shallow, shaky breaths as she scanned the room, dim candlelight, soft blankets, and the faint scent of herbs.
Her gaze moved to the corner, then landed on Zayn again. She frowned, just slightly, unsure of where she was or how she got here.
Zayn didn’t move. “You’re in the infirmary,” he said softly.
She kept staring, her breath catching in her throat. A second passed, then another.
Zayn sat by her again, “Do you remember what happened?”
Lily turned her head a little, her brows pulling together. Then slowly, she shook her head.
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t push. Instead, he reached for the tray Talia had left earlier and set it on the nightstand.
“Here. Try to eat something.”
He picked up the glass of water first, gently helping her sit up with a hand at her back.
She drank carefully, the water shaking in the glass from her grip.
Zayn steadied her hands without a word. When she was done, he set the glass down and opened the covered plate of food. A baked potato sat on top of the stew, and he paused, eyes narrowing.
“They forgot,” he muttered, more to himself. “You’re allergic.”
He pushed the potato aside quickly and checked the rest. The stew seemed safe.
Lily watched him, her brows drawn together. Something about the way he remembered made her chest ache a little.
He scooped some stew into a spoon and held it out.
Lily blinked at him, surprised. Her eyes flicked from the spoon to his face, uncertain.
Zayn raised an eyebrow. “What? You think I poisoned it?”
Her lips twitched, just barely. Then slowly, she opened her mouth and let him feed her.
“Good,” he said quietly. “Keep going.”
She ate slowly, each mouthful small and careful. He didn’t rush her. Just sat there, feeding her one spoonful at a time.
After a few more scoops, she gave a slight shake of her head. She couldn’t eat anymore. He set the spoon down and grabbed a cloth, gently wiping the corner of her mouth.
Lily didn’t flinch, but she didn’t meet his eyes either.
She sank back into the pillows, exhaustion pulling at her limbs.
Zayn adjusted the blankets gently. “Get some rest. You’re safe now.”
The room went quiet again. Only the soft flickering of the candle and the occasional rustle of the wind outside broke the silence.
Zayn stayed close, elbows on his knees, eyes locked on the floor like it had all the answers he needed but wouldn’t give them.
Lily shifted beneath the blankets. Slowly, she reached out.
Her hand brushed against his.
Zayn looked over, surprised at the touch, but he didn’t pull away. He turned his palm upward and let her slip her fingers into his.
She gave a tiny squeeze, then wrote slowly, her fingers still weak.
‘I’m sorry for running.’
She waited, heart pounding, scared he might ask why. That he might hate her for it.
“I know why,” he said quietly.
Her head snapped up, eyes wide.
Zayn sighed deeply. “I know what they did,” he said, voice harder now. “I know they tricked you and made you think I sent for you.”
Lily swallowed, guilt and relief tangling in her chest. She scribbled again.
Zayn shook his head. “They are the ones in trouble. I already warned them,” he said. “If anyone tries anything like that again...” His jaw flexed. “It won’t just be a simple warning.”
Lily’s eyes searched his, confused. She hadn’t expected that from him. Not after everything.
Zayn saw the look on her face and added, “You’re not the one who should be apologizing.”
Silence fell between them again. Lily, uncertain of what else to do, picked up the candle. The source of light brought her comfort.
Zayn watched as she lightly traced the rim of the candle’s holder with her fingers. Her eyes were glued to the flickering flame, like she was afraid it might go out again.
“Are you...” He started, then hesitated. “Are you afraid of the dark?”
Lily didn’t look at him. But after a long pause, she gave a small, nervous nod.
Zayn’s voice was quieter when he spoke again. “Why?”
She reached out and took his hand again.
Zayn’s breath caught when she began writing softly with her finger against his palm.
“Yeah,” he murmured, leaning back a little. “I get those too.”
Lily looked up, curious.
He glanced at her, then gave a tight smile. “Most nights, actually.”
Her brows furrowed slightly, and she raised her hand again. Her fingertips brushed gently along the edge of his sleeve, right over the scar that peeked out beneath it. Then she pointed right at it.
Her other hand touched his palm again.