The Betrayed Princess Rising Chapter 301

Lylah's POV

Relief came in a way I hadn’t expected.

For all his dominance, for all the instinctive authority that made others lower their heads, Ezra did not fight me when sickness dragged him down. I had braced myself for resistance, for the pride of an Alpha who would rather endure pain than admit weakness.

But he didn’t.

This morning, he had been subdued. Not weak—never that—but quieter. He took the healer’s tonics without argument, even allowing me to guide the cup to his lips.

I fed him, too.

And something soft and tender stirred in my chest.

I lifted my hand, pressing my palm to his forehead, about to check his temperature when the doors slammed open.

“Ezra!”

Zyrelle’s voice shattered the quiet. “Why are you lying? You told me you couldn’t get sick! Grandpa says you can! you just said that to impress me!”

Grandfather Vargan followed behind her, slower, his presence as steady as ever. “Zyrelle,” he said with a sigh, “you’ve just interrupted Ezra’s rest and Lylah’s care.”

I withdrew my hand, forcing calm into my voice.

“It’s alright. I’ve just finished helping him eat and take his medicine.”

Vargan paused.

“He took medicine?” Amusement colored his tone, his brows lifting. A soft chuckle escaped him. “Since when?” He shook his head lightly. “You’ve done what none of us could. You’ve changed him.” His gaze lingered on me—warm, approving. “Thank you, my dear.”

Then he tugged Zyrelle away. “Come on. Let them rest.”

The door closed behind them, and silence settled over the room once more.

But the moment it did, my attention snapped back to Ezra and irritation rose, sharp and immediate.

My brows drew together. “What are they talking about?” I demanded. “Is it true? You’ve been sick before and always refused treatment?”

He blinked, caught off guard, but didn’t look away.

“I just…” His voice had lost its usual edge, quieter now. “I didn’t want them to worry. And I didn’t want to bother anyone.”

“Bother?” The word came out sharper than I intended. My wolf stirred, restless, disapproving.

“Ezra, they’re your family. Since when is taking care of you a burden?”

His gaze shifted, something distant flickering in his eyes. “Because deep down, I know they expect their Alpha to always be strong. Always fine.”

Something inside me tightened painfully.

How many times?

How many times had he endured fever, pain, weakness, alone? How many times had he forced himself to stand, to lead, to be Alpha, even when his body demanded otherwise?

The thought made something fierce rise in my chest.

Before I could stop myself, I leaned in and pressed my lips to his jaw.

His skin was still warm, but atleast no longer burning. The contact sent a subtle tension through him, like something restrained just beneath the surface.

“Lylah—”

I silenced him, pressing my fingers gently to his lips.

“From now on,” I murmured, my voice low but steady, “you have me.”

My thumb brushed across his mouth and that was when I felt it.

Dry.

“You don’t get to hide from me,” I continued softly. “No more pretending you’re always fine. No more carrying everything alone. Not with me.”

My wolf stirred again.

My gaze dropped to his lips.

Something instinctive tightened in my chest.

I leaned closer, drawn by a pull I didn’t question.

But just before I could close the distance, Ezra turned his head.

I froze, confusion flickering through me.

A pout tugged at my lips—

And then, suddenly, his arms came around me, firm and certain, pulling me into him.

And then he kissed me.

Not where I expected.

His lips brushed my forehead first, lingering with a warmth that sank deeper than his fading fever. Then my brow. My cheek. My pulse quickened as his touch trailed down to my jaw—unhurried, almost reverent.

Like he was memorizing me.

Like he was holding back something far stronger beneath the surface.

He kissed me everywhere.

Everywhere but my lips.

My breath caught.

And then, close against my skin, his voice came. Threaded with quiet restraint.

“No lips for now. I don’t want to infect you.”