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Terran’s head came up to look into her face, but the room was so dark he couldn’t see her. Holding her hand to his chest, he leaned close to her lips. “Bria?”

He waited with bated breath. But there was no response, no reaction to his voice. After a long moment of hopefulness, Terran bowed his head in disappointment.

The door behind him opened slowly and the light of a lone candle approached, engulfing him and Bria in its luminescence.

“Lord Knowles,” a gentle voice from behind him called.

Terran didn’t move. He wouldn’t release Bria’s hand. He’d never relinquish her to the care of someone else, even the herbalist -- especially the herbalist. The last time he’d abandoned his woman, she had died.

He felt the herbalist moving about beside him, checking Bria. Finally, the herbalist said, “Lord Knowles.”

Dread filled Terran. He didn’t want to hear the next words, for he was certain what they’d be. He didn’t want to hear Bria was dead. He rose to his feet, towering over the small man. “Don’t say it,” he commanded.

“But Lord Knowles!” the man objected.

Terran grabbed his tunic front and pulled him close until he could see the fear in the man’s eyes. “I said I don’t want to hear it.”

Silently, the man nodded his head.

Terran released him and the herbalist quickly stepped away, moving toward the door. Terran watched him leave. He was afraid to look at Bria for fear her vibrant skin would be gray with death, afraid to touch her for fear her warm skin would be cold. He wanted desperately to escape this room of death, but he’d promised not to abandon Bria. He’d promised he wouldn’t leave her.

Terran turned back to his wife, knowing the vision greeting him would erase all the glorious memories he had of Bria and plunge his image of her into a deathlike slumber.

But she looked no different. Relief swept through him. She hadn’t given up her battle yet. She hadn’t succumbed.

Terran stood over Bria for a long moment, simply looking at her peaceful face. She was beautiful, even in this desperate battle for her life. Her glorious hair was spread out over the pillow like a blanket of silk. Her face was serene, showing none of the torment her body must be enduring.

He sat in the chair beside the bed, watching and waiting for any signs of what was to come.

What came next was something he hadn’t expected.

Bria’s eyes fluttered and then opened. She felt tired, so tired, and groggy, as if she hadn’t gotten enough sleep. She looked around her, disoriented for a moment. A candle, almost burned down to the base, flickered over the room, casting it in long eerie shadows. Her gaze continued to sweep the room, finally coming to settle on the one face that calmed her.

Terran was resting on the bed, turned toward her, his black hair spread out beneath his head. A smile touched her dry lips. She reached out a hand to his cheek, but before she could touch it, his eyes opened and he sat bolt upright, his hand moving to the hilt of his scabbard.

Bria stared at him, wide-eyed, breathless.

His eyes were wild for a moment, but then settled back into the calm darkness Bria knew well.

“Bria,” he gasped, unmoving. He was frozen, his hand resting on the handle of his sword as if he were going to cut down some ghost in his memory.

Bria reached for him. “Yes,” she said. “It’s me.”

“Bria!” His ragged exclamation was choked with emotion and worry. He clasped her in a warm, tight embrace, an embrace that bound her to him. She lifted her hands, encircling his back. Even though her arms felt heavy, she managed to hold him close.

“Oh, Bria,” he whispered, pressing kisses against her hair. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Bria sighed, relaxing in his hold. His strong arms engulfed her, pressing their bodies so tightly against each other nothing could come between them. Relief filled every one of his kisses. Warmth flooded her.

Everything would be all right.

Terran pulled back and looked into her eyes. “How do you feel? Is there something I can get you?”

Bria smiled at him. “I feel like I slept for days.” She sat up, looking around. “Is it morning?”

Terran glanced at the shutters, giving Bria a chance to study his rugged profile. He was a vision she didn’t mind waking to -- his strong Roman nose, his perfect, chiseled jaw, the soft strands of dark hair curling around the tops of his strong shoulders. She reached up to touch his hair.

“It’s dawn,” Terran answered, returning his gaze to hers. He captured her outstretched hand in his, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “You’ve been asleep for an entire day.”