The scent of blood and smoke lingered in the air, suffocating and cold, like a ghost that refused to leave.
Sierra’s heart pounded in her chest as she knelt beside Rowan, her hands trembling as she pressed them against his side. The battle raged around them, but in this small corner of the battlefield, everything had stopped. Time seemed to freeze as the reality of what had just happened hit her. The chaos of the fight had moved on, but Rowan—her Rowan—was lying before her, pale, his body too still.
The sound of the distant battle, the cries of victory and loss, faded as she focused on him. Her breath came in short bursts, the rawness of the situation seeping into her bones. She had seen enough bloodshed, enough pain, but nothing had prepared her for the terror of seeing him like this.
His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, but they were weak, faint, as if his body was giving up. The wound on his side—deep and jagged—was bleeding freely, staining the snow beneath him. Blood smeared his face, and for a moment, Sierra couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. She was afraid to look at him, afraid to see the worst.
“No…” she whispered, her voice breaking as she pressed her hands harder against his side. “No, please don’t.”
Rowan’s eyes fluttered open for a brief moment, and she saw the confusion in his gaze. But there was no fear in him, no panic. He had always been the steady one, the calm force in their chaos. But now, as he looked up at her, Sierra could see the faintest glimmer of something else—a hint of pain, and behind it, a quiet acceptance that broke her heart.
“Sierra…” His voice was barely more than a rasp, his words strained and weak.
“Don’t speak,” she urged, her heart in her throat. She shook her head, trying to keep the tears at bay. “Please, don’t say anything. You’re going to be okay. You have to be okay.”
Rowan’s lips twitched, as if he wanted to speak, but the effort was too much. His hand found hers, weak but insistent, and he pulled her closer, his fingers brushing against her cheek. He didn’t need to say anything; the look in his eyes was enough.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, the words barely escaping his lips.
Sierra felt the weight of his apology, but she couldn’t allow it. Not now. Not when they had so much left to fight for.
“Stop,” she said, her voice low but firm. “You’re not allowed to apologize. You’re not allowed to say anything like that.”
She could feel him fighting to stay conscious, his breathing slow and uneven, but there was a determination in his eyes that made her heart ache. She couldn’t lose him. Not like this.
She pressed her hands against the wound again, harder this time, trying to stop the bleeding, but it was no use. She could feel his life slipping away with each breath, and it terrified her more than anything she had ever felt.
“Please,” she begged, her voice thick with emotion. “Stay with me. Don’t leave me, Rowan. You can’t leave me. Not now.”
His eyes fluttered open again, but this time, they were full of something else—something more familiar. It was love, and it was unwavering, even as his strength began to fade.
“I’ll stay…” His voice was soft, fragile, and the words barely made it past his lips. He was struggling to hold on, struggling to stay with her, but the pull of unconsciousness was too strong.
“No, no, no,” Sierra whispered, her voice breaking as she leaned down, her forehead touching his. The world around them seemed to fade, and in that moment, all that mattered was him.
“You have to stay with me, Rowan,” she begged, her voice trembling. “Please. You’re not allowed to leave.”
The words came from the depths of her heart, filled with the raw truth of what she couldn’t live without. She had never been this vulnerable, this open, with anyone before. But with him, it was different. He was the one who had always stood by her side, the one who had never left her. She couldn’t imagine a future without him.
Rowan’s eyes flickered again, his grip on her hand tightening, just enough to remind her that he was still there. Still fighting. “I’m… not going anywhere,” he whispered, though the words were faint.
But Sierra knew better. She could feel it, feel the strength draining from him. The battle for his life was slipping through her fingers like sand. She couldn’t lose him. She wouldn’t.
“You have to fight,” she said desperately, her voice full of raw emotion. “You have to fight for us, Rowan. For me.”
His eyes softened, his hand moving to caress her cheek once more. The tenderness in his touch made her heart ache, but his gaze was unwavering, filled with something so real that it felt like the very thing that had kept them both going through all of this.
“I will… fight for you,” he promised, his voice a whisper, but full of strength. “Always.”
Sierra closed her eyes, allowing herself a moment of peace in the chaos. She wasn’t alone. Not anymore. And no matter what happened, she would never be.
“Stay with me,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “You’re not allowed to leave.”