The mansion was quiet, but the stillness carried a weight heavier than usual. It had been hours since Izana left for his emergency meeting, and Leah had tried to keep herself busy, pacing lightly through the hallways, checking her calendar, attempting to read, and even sipping weak tea. But the unease in her body grew with every passing minute. She could feel it now—nausea creeping in, dizziness pressing at her skull, and a strange fatigue settling deep into her bones.
She tried to steady herself, gripping the edge of the counter in the kitchen. "…Not now," she whispered under her breath, exhaling shakily. Her hand drifted instinctively to her abdomen, not from pain but from a subtle, unnameable pressure that left her trembling. She pressed her forehead lightly against the cool marble, trying to focus. She could hear the faint hum of the air system and the distant murmur of staff, but it felt as though the world had narrowed to the uneasy thrum of her own body.
Leaning back slightly, she tried to move toward the staircase. Her legs wobbled immediately, betraying her. "…Not again," she murmured, voice trembling. Her hands gripped the railing tightly, but it was no use. Her vision blurred slightly, and the room seemed to tilt. The next moment, she swayed dangerously, heart racing, and had to catch herself against the wall.
"Leah?" The sound of Elias' voice startled her. She blinked and realized he had appeared in the corridor, walking briskly toward her. "What are you doing out of bed?"
"I… I just… I feel a little…" she faltered, trying to find words that didn't exist for the unease she felt. Her knees buckled suddenly, and she stumbled into his arms.
"Easy, easy," Elias said calmly, guiding her back toward the sitting area. "You've been pushing yourself."
"I… I didn't want him—." Leah tried to say, referring to Izana, but the words caught in her throat.
"He's not here yet," Elias said softly, his gaze sharp but not unkind. "You nearly collapsed. Don't try to do too much on your own."
Leah sank onto the chaise, breathing unevenly. "…I just… feel strange," she admitted quietly, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. Her hands drifted to her face, her shoulders trembling.
By the time Izana's car rolled into the driveway hours later, the sun had dipped low, casting the mansion in long, golden shadows. He had barely been able to focus during his meetings, the pulse beneath his chest—his curse—growing sharper, insistent. Something had changed; he could feel it even before Elias approached him.
"She almost collapsed while you were away," Elias said, walking alongside him as he entered the house. "We got her to sit, but she's been pale and weak all day."
Izana's jaw tightened. His blindfold had remained in place throughout the drive, but now he removed it, letting his eyes adjust to the softer indoor light. The faint sting of brightness was nothing compared to the concern twisting through him. "Show me," he said quietly.
Elias nodded and led him to their bedroom. Leah lay curled on the bed, half-asleep, one arm draped over her stomach. She stirred at the sound of the door, eyes fluttering open. For a moment, her gaze met his, weak and tired, and a faint, fragile smile curved her lips.
"Izana," she whispered.
He knelt beside the bed, careful not to disturb her further. His blindfold was gone, the soft light of the room brushing against his eyes, but he refused to hide. Every detail mattered—the paleness of her skin, the slight dampness at her temples, the trembling of her hands. He reached out slowly, brushing a hand through her hair. "Leah," he murmured, voice soft but taut with worry.
She leaned slightly into his touch, allowing the comfort of his presence to anchor her. "I… I'm okay," she whispered, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her.
"Are you?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, observing her closely. "Tell me how you feel."
She tried to sit up, her body trembling as she attempted to straighten. Almost immediately, her strength failed her. Izana caught her effortlessly, pulling her gently into a hug, his arms firm yet tender. Her shoulders sagged against him, and a quiet, broken sob escaped her lips.
He felt the wetness against his shoulder, realized quickly that it was her tears. Carefully, he pulled back just enough to look at her face, his thumb sweeping gently across her cheek, wiping away the tears. "Leah… why are you crying?" he asked softly, his thumb lingering against her skin. "Does it hurt anywhere?"
She shook her head weakly, eyes brimming but avoiding his gaze. "…I'm sorry," she whispered, voice trembling. "I… I don't know what's happening to me. I… I just don't know."
Izana pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, lingering. "Shh," he murmured. "You do not need to apologize. We will find the cause. Tomorrow, I will take you to the doctors myself. For now, rest. Let me care for you."
Her head rested lightly against his chest as she let out a small, shuddering breath. "I… I don't want to worry you."
"You are allowed to feel unwell," he replied gently. "But you are not allowed to face it alone. Not with me here."
He helped her lie back down, adjusting the pillows carefully beneath her head and curling blankets around her. Every movement was deliberate, measured, and gentle, as though the world outside the bed could wait indefinitely.
"I'll get changed," he murmured, rising and stepping away just enough to remove his suit and change into comfortable pajamas. The pale light of the room hit his eyes again, allowing himself to see her clearly—her delicate, trembling form, the exhaustion in every line of her face.
Moments later, he returned and eased himself onto the bed beside her. "Come closer," he said softly, and she shifted toward him, resting her head against his chest. His arms wrapped around her gently, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounding her. "I am here. You are safe," he murmured.
Hours passed in quiet intimacy, punctuated only by her soft breathing and occasional murmured words. He stroked her hair, traced circles on her back, and whispered encouragements whenever she stirred. Her small whimpers of discomfort prompted him to adjust her position, always keeping her warmth and safety in mind.
But as night deepened, Leah stirred again. She shifted slightly, and her breathing hitched. He felt her tremble even through the blankets. Her body had grown colder, paler than before.
"Leah?" he asked immediately, sitting upright in alarm. His hands moved instinctively to her waist, steadying her. "What's happening?"
"I… I feel… unwell again," she whispered, her voice weak, trembling on the edge of panic.
"Do not speak. You will not refuse me." His tone was low but commanding. He gently placed his hand on her side, feeling her shiver, noting the sudden weakness that gripped her.
Before she could respond, he scooped her up carefully in his arms, her small weight balanced against his strength. "We are going now," he said firmly. "I will not allow this to continue while you remain unexamined."
Her head rested weakly against his chest as he moved quickly but carefully, the soft hum of the mansion fading behind them. She tried to protest, to tell him she could manage, but her words were lost in a small gasp as he carried her through the quiet corridors.
"Leah," he murmured softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as they moved, "you must trust me. You are not alone. Not ever."
Her fingers curled weakly against his shirt. "I… I'm scared," she admitted in a tiny, trembling whisper.
"I know," he replied gently, adjusting her in his arms. "But fear is irrelevant when I am here. Nothing will happen to you while I am present. Not now, not ever."
They reached the medical corridor, the lights casting a sterile glow over the smooth floors. Doctors and nurses immediately moved to meet them, sensing the urgency in his posture. "We'll take her now," one said, approaching cautiously.
Izana nodded sharply. "Do everything necessary. She is weak. Observe her closely. No harm comes to her while I am here."
Leah's breaths were shallow, but she clung lightly to his shirt as the doctors guided them toward the examination room. Her trembling intensified slightly, but she remained in his arms, the faint warmth of his body grounding her.
"Everything will be fine," he murmured softly. "You will rest, and then we will understand. I am here. Always."
And for the first time that night, Leah allowed herself to close her eyes fully, trusting him completely, even as the uncertainty of her condition pressed heavily against her.