Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 372

Finley felt a chill shoot down his neck under the intensity of Victor's sharp glare.

"Heh, really?" he chuckled, quickly steering the conversation away.

"Let me check your temperature first," he said, heading over to the bed. He grabbed the digital thermometer from his medical kit and pressed it gently to Victor's ear.

"106 degrees!" Finley announced, his eyes wide. "Wow, I wasn't expecting that—you're actually burning up!"

Victor's cold gaze flicked over him, making it clear he wasn't amused.

But seeing Victor looking so helpless for once, Finley was emboldened. He flashed a bright, cheeky grin.

Victor found the sight thoroughly irritating and turned away with a scowl. "Is it contagious?" he asked, voice gruff.

Finley seized the rare chance to tease him. "Not the fever itself, no. But at this rate, with how high your temperature is, you should probably take it easy. Remember, Isa's pregnant. Try not to get her all worked up."

Isadora, who'd been hovering nearby, blushed scarlet.

Victor didn't bother to hide his annoyance. "You can leave now."

***

In the living room, Finley prepped some fever medication and ran Isadora through a few important instructions.

She listened intently, worry etched on her face. "Isn't that temperature a bit too high? Should I be worried?"

Finley considered it for a moment, then put on a grave expression. "Well, probably not. But then again, you never know. So you'd better stay by his side and keep an eye on him—if it suddenly skyrockets past 122, that's really bad news."

Isadora's eyes went round. "That serious?"

Finley nodded, deadpan. "Definitely. And with how cranky he's bound to be, just try to humor him, okay? Sick people can be a handful."

Isadora nodded obediently. "Okay."

She still looked a little dazed from his words; Finley couldn't help but smirk in satisfaction.

That's all the help I can give you, brother, he thought as he left.

***

As soon as she settled in, Victor's feverish body pressed up behind her, his arms circling her tightly, pulling her into his embrace.

Feeling the heat radiating from his skin, Isadora couldn't help but ask, "Are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere else?"

Victor's lips brushed her ear as he murmured, low and languid, "Yeah…down there."

Isadora's cheeks flushed crimson, her whole body tensing at the implication.

She swallowed, her voice trembling. "Dr. Pembroke said… you really shouldn't right now."

"He's an idiot. He's the one who shouldn't be practicing medicine," Victor growled, his voice rough and thick with need. "Isadora. Darling."

She bit her lip, noticing just how miserable he looked.

Closing her eyes, she blurted out, "Maybe I can help you…"

A moment later, she lifted the covers and slowly slid down.

Soon, the room was filled with the sound of Victor's ragged breathing—until it rose to a low, guttural moan.