Ozul tried to help him to his feet, but Rowan pushed him away.
"Don't touch me," he said, suddenly feeling as if his nerves had been frayed beyond repair. "I want to stay here."
He lay on his side in the middle of the floor, beyond caring if it made sense to do so. The marble was cold against his body, making the chill inside him even worse, but he was too tired to care about that, either.
All he cared about was processing the rest of the poison as quickly as possible so that this could finally be over. Rowan closed his eyes and surrendered to the pain because he knew it was the only way for him to wear it out.
As his shivers turned violent, he curled in on himself, and somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if he might actually be warmer if he turned into a block of ice and was done with it already. He may have even said it out loud, but he couldn't tell what was real anymore.
