Page 134 of The Heir's Bargain

Not again.

Not again.

My chair crashed behind me a second before the doors flew open. Because in the jumble of thoughts, one thought—one name—was as clear as the sky.

Dani.

Before my brother and our friends had time to process what was happening, I was up and rushing to the doors as they were thrust open.

My ears rang, anger coursing through me. Thoughts tumbled over one another like waves pounding onto the shore, crashing into each other.

Lance, sweaty and breathless, was the first to enter. He opened his mouth, but he didn't get the chance to speak.

I slammed him against the wall, the collar of his uniform twisting inside my palm. "Where is she?"

Lance's pale blue eyes widened. "Your Highness, I?—"

I slammed his body against the wall again. The pictures hanging rattled as someone in the room gasped. Fear-filled thoughts filtered into my mind. I tried to block out the extraneous ones—the useless ones, the scared ones—but I struggled to sift through them, to cut their lines.

All my attention was on Dani—on finding the thoughts connecting to her.

I needed answers.

I needed them now.

"Where is my?—"

A light hand fell on my shoulder, cutting me off.

Fynneares, Terin said down the mental connection, but I cut the connection off before he could say any more. I didn't need his soft words or melodic voice sweeping in and calming the hot fury that buzzed beneath my skin.

It didn't matter if Dani and I were together or not. I had lost too many people I cared about because of the Bullheaded King. I would not lose her, too.

My jaw cracked as I tightened my grip around Lance's shirt. "Tell me where she is," I commanded.

The color drained from Lance’s already pale face. "Your Highness, she—she's at home," he stammered.

My knuckles cracked. "Home? Has she seen a healer?"

Lance nodded frantically. "Yes, but?—"

"Is she okay?" I shouted, shaking him.

I tried to focus on his mind. I tried to isolate the thoughts filling my own, but I couldn't distinguish between the various voices filling my mind. I couldn't decipher the nonsense that piled atop each other as people moved around me.

My nails dug into Lance’s uniform as I lifted him against the wall, his toes barely grazing the floor.

"Tell me!"

Lance nodded, his fingers scratching against the wall. "She is, but she—she's been unconscious. The healers said?—"

"How long?" I growled, my head pounding.

Lance's brows drew together. "Your Highness?"

"How long has she been unconscious?" I spat, slamming him into the wall.

"A few weeks, Your Highness," Lance croaked out.

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