Chapter 4

The fever came in waves, each one dragging me deeper into a haze of heat and chills. Xavier's cool hand pressed against my forehead, his touch so gentle it made my chest ache in ways that had nothing to do with illness.

"Your temperature is still too high," he murmured, adjusting the damp cloth on my brow. "When did you last eat something?"

I tried to remember, but the past twenty-four hours blurred together like watercolors in rain. "I don't know. Yesterday, maybe?"

His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "That's not helping your recovery." He stood, moving toward my kitchen with…