<h4>Chapter 158: His Illness</h4>


    Hailee’s POV


    My heart lurched so violently I thought it would tear itself from my chest. The warm haze, the touch of lips and hands, everything that had just happened with Frederick vanished instantly. I shoved harder at his chest, my breath ragged, my hands shaking as I scrambled off the bed, dragging the nket tight around me. "Moon above..." My voice broke, my throat tight. "Not my baby—"


    Frederick was moving. He yanked his robe back on with swift, precise motions, the passion that had consumed him seconds before disappeared. "Stay calm," he said, his voice low but filled with worry. His eyes were steady, though his chest still rose and fell fast. "Get dressed. I’ll go first." I shook my head furiously, already stumbling toward the door, the nket tangling around my legs. "No! He needs me—"


    "Hailee." His tone stopped me, sharp andmanding. He came to my side, his cool hand gripping my arm—not harsh, but firm enough to stop me. "You rushing out like this will only frighten them more. Dress yourself. Meet me in their room." Tears blurred my vision, but I forced myself to nod, forced my feet back toward the chair where my nightdressy crumpled. My fingers trembled so badly it took me twice as long to pull it over my head. My chest ached with every second that passed. Oscar... my boy, my strong boy...


    By the time I ran into their room, Frederick was already there. He stood near the bed, his tall frame shadowing Oscar’s small, limp body. Oliver and Ozzy hovered on either side, their faces pale and wet with tears.


    "Mama!" Oliver cried the moment he saw me, his voice cracking. "He just—he just fell!"


    I dropped to my knees beside the bed, gathering Oscar’s small hand into mine. His skin was mmy, hisshes pressed too tightly to his cheeks. My throat closed, terror swallowing me whole.


    "Baby, wake up," I begged, pressing kisses to his knuckles, his forehead, anywhere I could reach. "Oscar, please—Mama’s here. Please open your eyes."


    Frederick crouched beside me, his calm voice steady for the boys’ sake, though I could feel the worry inside him. "He’s breathing. His pulse is there. He’s weak, but he’s not gone." His eyes flicked to mine, sharp. "This may be from hunger."


    Guilt stabbed deep into my chest. Two days. Two days of stubbornness, two days of me letting it stretch this far because I thought they’d give in eventually. And now—Oscar in my arms, fainting from refusing to eat a proper meal. They had been only having snacks.


    Ozzy’s small voice broke the silence. "Mama please do something." His brown eyes brimmed with tears.


    I clutched Oscar tighter, my tears spilling onto his fiery hair. "Moon above... what have I done?"


    My sobs shook my chest as I rocked Oscar against me, whispering his name over and over like the sound of it alone could call him back. My tears soaked into his fiery hair, his little body too still, too quiet.


    Frederick’s hand rested briefly on my shoulder,forting me, before he rose swiftly to his feet. His loud voice resounded everywhere.


    "Send for the healer," he barked toward the guards lingering nervously outside the door. They snapped into action, one bolting down the hall while the other stayed at the threshold, his head bowed.


    I kissed Oscar’s knuckles, shaking my head in disbelief. "This is my fault. I should have—should have forced them to eat—"


    "No," Frederick’s voice came sharp, cold enough to cut me off. His eyes pinned me with a look that silenced even my guilt. "Don’t say that, Hailee. It’s not your fault."


    Minutes stretched like hours until the healer finally rushed in. She didn’t waste time on pleasantries. She went straight to Oscar, kneeling beside me, her hands glowing faintly as she pressed them against his small chest.


    Her brows drew tight almost instantly.


    "What is it?" I whispered, my voice trembling. "Tell me—please, tell me."


    The healer’s lips parted, then pressed shut again. She nced briefly at Frederick, as though weighing her words, before turning back to me. "He has not fainted from hunger," she said atst, her voice low but clear.


    My stomach dropped. "Then—what?"


    Her hands moved again, hovering just above his mouth, his chest, as if reading something beyond what the eye could see. The glow around her fingers pulsed faintly in rhythm with his shallow breaths.


    "It is rare," she murmured, her expression grave. "A condition few ever see. Lunar Respiris."


    The name meant nothing to me, but it sounded like a curse. My throat tightened. "What does that mean? What’s wrong with him?"


    The healer’s eyes softened as she leaned back, her glow fading. "It is an ancient illness, tied to the moon’s pull on wolves born under unusual signs. It makes the breath falter, the body weaken suddenly, as though the moon itself steals strength away. But—" she added quickly when she saw my face copse—"it passes. It does not kill. He will wake soon, though he will need watching."


    I gasped out a shaky breath, clutching Oscar closer. Relief and fear crashed together so violently I almost fainted myself. "He’ll wake up? You swear?"


    The healer nodded once, firm. "Yes. His body is strong. This is a shadow, not a death sentence. Keep him warm. Let him rest. When the moon cycle turns again, it may not return—or it may, though less harshly."


    My tears fell freely now, dripping onto Oscar’s still hand as I kissed it again and again. "Thank you," I whispered brokenly. "Moon above, thank you."


    Beside me, Frederick exhaled slowly, his jaw unclenching, though his posture remained like stone. His eyes lingered on the healer, sharp and unreadable. "You’ll stay here until he wakes." It wasn’t a question.


    The healer bowed her head, settling beside the bed with her tools spread.


    I rocked Oscar gently, my lips pressed to his hair, whispering promises I prayed I could keep. "Mama’s here. You’re safe. Please wake up soon, my boy."