Chapter 50: Chapter 50: The Poison That Didn’t Kill

Chapter 50: The Poison That Didn’t Kill

Liora’s POV

I should have known something was wrong the moment Ivy smiled like that.

It stayed with me even after she left the room. That expression, too calm, too satisfied, like something had already been decided and I just hadn’t caught up to it yet. I lay back slowly, staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of it, trying to convince myself I wasn’t overthinking.

But my chest felt tight.

Not fear exactly. Something sharper. Like a warning I couldn’t fully hear yet.

The room was quiet, and for a while, nothing happened. I stayed where I was, listening to the faint sounds of the fortress settling into the night, letting my breathing even out.

Then the weakness started.

At first, it was subtle. A heaviness in my limbs, like I had pushed myself too far again. I shifted slightly on the bed, trying to ignore it, but the feeling didn’t fade. It spread instead, slowly, steadily, like something sinking deeper into my body.

I frowned, pushing myself up on my elbows.

This wasn’t new. I had felt weak before, after healing, after using too much of my power. But this felt... different.

My fingers trembled when I tried to steady myself.

That had never happened before.

I swallowed and swung my legs off the bed, intending to stand, but the moment my feet touched the ground, my vision tilted slightly, and I had to grab the edge of the bed to keep from falling.

"Okay..." I whispered under my breath, forcing a small breath out. "You’re just tired."

That had to be it.

Too much had happened. Too much stress. Too much strain and I’m pregnant

But when I tried to take a step, my knees nearly gave out completely.

I caught myself just in time, my grip tightening on the bed as a sharp wave of dizziness hit me. My heart started beating faster, not from exertion, but from something that didn’t feel right.

This wasn’t normal.

My breathing grew uneven as I tried to straighten, but the room wouldn’t stay still. The walls felt too close, the air too thick, like it was pressing against my lungs instead of filling them.

I tried to call out, but my voice came out weaker than I expected.

"Kael..."

It barely carried past my lips. I forced myself to try again, but the strength wasn’t there. Even lifting my head felt heavier than it should have been.

My hand slipped from the bed. The floor rushed up faster than I could react.

The last thing I registered was the sound of something breaking as I hit the ground, then the door bursting open.

---

When I opened my eyes again, the room was no longer quiet.

Voices filled the space, low and urgent, overlapping in a way that made it hard to focus. My head felt heavy, like it didn’t belong to me, and every breath I took came slower than it should have.

"...what happened?"

Kael’s voice.

I didn’t need to see him to recognize the tension in it.

"She collapsed," someone answered. "We found her on the floor."

I tried to move, but my body didn’t respond the way I expected. My fingers barely twitched, and even that small movement sent a strange numbness up my arm.

"She’s breathing," another voice said quickly. "But it’s weak."

"I can see that," Kael snapped, his tone sharper now. "Why is she like this? How is the baby condition too?"

I felt his presence before I felt his touch. The mattress dipped slightly as he moved closer, and a second later, his hand was against my face, firm but careful.

"Liora."

I tried to respond, but my lips barely moved.

"I’m here," he said, his voice lower now, steadier. "Look at me."

It took more effort than it should have, but I managed to open my eyes fully. His face came into view, blurred at first, then slowly sharpening.

Relief flickered across his expression, but it didn’t last.

"You’re not fine," he said quietly, like he was answering something I hadn’t said.

I wanted to tell him I was okay. I wanted to tell him it was just the healing, just the exhaustion, that he didn’t need to worry. But the words wouldn’t come.

Because even I didn’t believe that anymore.

The healer moved closer, pushing gently past Kael. I felt her fingers press against my wrist, then my neck, checking my pulse with practiced precision.

She didn’t say anything at first.

But I felt it, that hesitation and Kael noticed it too.

"What is it?" he asked immediately.

"Her pulse..." the healer began, then stopped.

Kael’s voice dropped, colder now. "Finish that sentence."

"It’s not consistent," she said carefully. "It’s slowing down, then spiking again. That’s not normal for exhaustion."

I forced my eyes open wider, trying to focus on her face.

Not normal. The words echoed in my head, but they didn’t fully make sense yet.

"It’s because of the baby," Kael said firmly. "She’s been stressed. You said yourself, she shouldn’t be stressed."

"Yes," the healer replied slowly. "It does. But this—"

She paused again, her fingers pressing more firmly against my wrist.

"This doesn’t feel like that."

The room seemed to grow quieter around those words. Kael didn’t respond immediately.

"What do you mean?" he asked after a second, his voice controlled but tight.

The healer didn’t answer right away. Instead, she reached for something from the table beside the bed, a small vial, then tilted my head slightly to get a better look at my eyes.

"Stay still," she murmured.

I would have laughed if I had the strength. I couldn’t move even if I wanted to.

Her fingers brushed lightly against my eyelid, and I saw her expression change, just slightly, but enough to notice.

Then she went back to checking my pulse again.

"This isn’t just weakness," she said quietly.

Kael’s hand tightened against mine. "Then what is it?"

Another pause, when she finally spoke, her voice was lower.

"It’s reacting like something is in her system."

The words settled slowly. Something in my system.

Kael went still.

"What are you saying?" he asked.

"I’m saying," the healer replied carefully, "that this doesn’t look like the result of over stressed ."

My chest tightened, even though I barely had the strength to breathe properly.

"No," Kael said immediately. "That’s not possible."

The healer didn’t argue, she just looked at him and that silence said more than anything else could have.

Kael exhaled slowly, like he was forcing himself to stay calm. "Then explain it."

The healer hesitated again, then leaned closer, studying me more carefully, like she was searching for something she wasn’t sure she wanted to find.

Seconds passed.

Too many seconds.

Then her expression shifted completely.

"What is it?" he demanded.

She didn’t answer him immediately. Instead, she lowered her voice, just enough that it felt like the words were meant only for him. But I heard them anyway.

"It’s poison."

The word didn’t register at first. It just... hung there like it didn’t belong.

Kael’s grip on my hand tightened so suddenly it almost hurt.

"What?" he said, his voice sharper now.

The healer swallowed slightly before repeating it, more firmly this time. "It’s poison."

The room shifted again, the tension snapping into something sharper, something dangerous.

"That’s not possible," Kael said again, but there was less certainty in it this time.

"It is," the healer replied quietly. "And it’s already in her bloodstream."

My thoughts felt slow, like they were struggling to keep up. Poison. How? When?

The answer came before I could even ask the question.

I suddenly remember ivy appear with a tray with smile plasterd on her face and the relief.

My chest tightened painfully, but I still couldn’t move.

Kael’s voice cut through everything again. "Then fix it."

The healer didn’t respond immediately and that was the moment everything shifted

"What?" he demanded.

She looked at him, and for the first time, there was no hesitation left in her expression. Only certainty.

"This isn’t a normal poison," she said quietly.

Kael’s jaw tightened. "Explain."

She took a slow breath before answering.

"This poison was made for someone like her."

The words felt wrong. Wrong in a way I couldn’t explain.

"What do you mean ’someone like her’?" Kael asked.

The healer’s gaze flickered toward me for a brief second before returning to him.

"It only affects those who cannot shift," she said.

Silence.

Then, almost like she didn’t want to say it out loud but had no choice, she added softly,

"This poison only works on someone who cannot shift."