Chapter 26 I Thought We'd Be Better
Liam stood at the side of the bed, unmoving, his presence fixed as the physician worked with quiet urgency. Instructions were given in low, controlled tones. Cloth was changed, vials opened. A faint scent of medicine drifted through the room, sharp enough to sting at the back of the throat.
Skylar’s body no longer convulsed the way it had moments ago, but the aftermath lingered in the small tremors that still passed through her limbs, in the uneven rise and fall of her chest. Her skin looked too pale against the dark fabric beneath her, her lips lacking color in a way that made the room feel colder than it was.
His attention didn't shift to the council waiting elsewhere, to the unfinished meeting, to the consequences that still hung over his head. All of that existed, but it no longer held his focus.
“Her pulse is stabilizing,” the physician said at last, his fingers still resting lightly against Skylar’s wrist. “But she’s not out of danger yet. The body is recovering from multiple strains at once.”
Then time passed without shape. The attendants eventually withdrew, leaving only the physician nearby for observation. The room quieted again, but the tension didn’t disappear. It settled into something heavier, something slower, like a storm that had not fully moved on.
Liam remained where he was. He didn’t sit at first. Didn’t move closer than necessary. He simply stood, watching the subtle shifts in her breathing, the faint movement beneath her skin, as if waiting for something to go wrong again.
Minutes stretched into something longer. The urgency faded, replaced by a fragile stillness that felt like it could break if touched too roughly.
He pulled the chair closer, the sound of its legs against the floor quiet but deliberate, and sat beside the bed. His forearms rested loosely against his knees, his gaze still fixed on her face as if looking away might change something.
The hours that followed blurred together. At some point, the physician stepped out quietly, leaving instructions behind and trusting that nothing immediate would happen again. The servants did not return unless called. The palace itself seemed to quiet, the distant sounds of movement fading into something barely noticeable.
The night deepened, and Liam didn't leave. It was sometime later—he didn’t keep track of when—that Skylar stirred. The movement was faint at first. A slight shift beneath the covers, a soft inhale that caught differently than before.
He straightened, his attention sharpening, every other thought dropping away as he leaned slightly closer. Her lashes fluttered.
“…Alpha…”
The word was fragile, almost lost in the quiet. Liam moved before the thought fully formed. He was at the edge of the bed in an instant, one hand reaching out instinctively before he stopped himself just short of touching her face. For a fraction of a second, hesitation flickered—unfamiliar.
Then it was gone. He slid his arm carefully beneath her shoulders, lifting her just enough to pull her closer, steadying her against him as if she might slip away if he didn’t.
Skylar’s body was warm—but not in a healthy way. The kind of warmth that came from a body still fighting something unseen, something unresolved. Her head rested weakly against his chest, her breathing still uneven, but no longer breaking.
Liam adjusted his hold without thinking, one hand settling against her back, firm enough to support her but not enough to hurt. The tension in his shoulders eased as he stayed like that.
At some point, Skylar’s breathing evened out further, her body relaxing into the hold without resistance, as if instinct had taken over where thought couldn’t. He didn't question why he remained where he was, why he didn’t set her back down once she stabilized, why the quiet weight of her against him felt… necessary.
Skylar woke again to warmth; real warmth this time. Not the feverish haze that had wrapped around her before, but something steady, grounding, solid enough to hold onto.
The ache in her body remained, but it had dulled into something manageable, something distant enough that she could exist around it.
The dim light of the room greeted her first, soft and low, casting shadows along the walls. Then her gaze shifted, and she realized her position almost immediately.
Liam.
Her head rested against him, his arm still around her, his posture unchanged from what it must have been hours ago.
“You’re awake.” His voice was quiet. Closer than she expected. Skylar swallowed lightly, her throat still dry.
“Yes.”
Then, slowly, Skylar shifted just enough to look up at him. Liam’s gaze met hers without hesitation. “I thought I was going to die,” she said quietly.
Liam’s expression didn’t change. “You’re not allowed to die under my contract, or I’ll chase you down even in hell,” Liam said. words should’ve sounded cold. but something about the way he said it—low, steady, without looking away—made it land differently. Skylar huffed a faint breath that almost resembled a laugh.
“I didn’t run because I wanted to leave everything behind.” Liam didn’t interrupt. Skylar looked down briefly before continuing.
“I ran because I didn’t know where I stood anymore.” Her voice didn’t shake. “You took Jesse. You made decisions like I didn’t exist outside of what I signed for.” She inhaled slowly. “I know I don’t have rights here. I understand that. But that doesn’t mean I can’t… feel it.”
“You still broke the contract,” he said.
Skylar nodded. “I know.” Then she looked at Liam again.
“I’m not asking you to forgive that.” Liam’s gaze lingered on her face for a moment longer than necessary before he looked away.
“Rest,” he said. Skylar didn’t argue. This time, when she lay back down, the quiet that followed didn’t feel as suffocating.
And then morning came too soon. The light filtered in through the tall windows, soft at first, then stronger, stretching across the room in slow, deliberate lines. Skylar woke to it.
Her body still ached, but the heaviness had lifted just enough that breathing no longer felt like work. For a moment, she allowed herself to stay still. Then the door opened with a confidence that didn't ask for permission. Skylar turned her head and froze.
The woman who stepped inside carried herself like she had always belonged there.
Every movement precise, every detail of her appearance carefully curated without looking forced. Her dress flowed effortlessly around her, the fabric catching the morning light in a way that made her seem almost untouched by anything ordinary.
Her gaze moved across the room. then landed on Skylar.
“So,” she said, her voice smooth, refined. “You’re the one everyone’s been whispering about.”