Page 88 of Their War

I paced the floor, having lost all patience hours ago. Looking at the clock again, I realized I hadn't slept at all for almost thirty six hours. None of us had. All of us were too anxious to sleep in case Rhowyn needed us.

I stomped past Callum, who slammed an arm out, halting my progress. “Stop,” he growled out.

“It's not like I can help it. I need to do something. And since I can't go in there to see her, I need to move,” I reasoned with him, my skin crawling with the need to move.

“Your pacing is driving me nuts and making my wolf nervous,” he said through gritted teeth, his eyes flashing yellow as if to reiterate his point.

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. “Sorry. I just hate sitting here. It's eating me up.”

“It's eating us all up.”

“I know, it's just...” I trailed off, unable to put the feeling into words.

“I get it. I feel the same way. My wolf isn't wanting to listen to reason. He wants to crash in there and make sure she's alright. He doesn't get that if he does that, he could kill her,” he said, more to his wolf than to me.

“Yeah,” I said, my mind already drifting from the conversation and back to Rhowyn. Two days. She'd been locked in that room for two whole days without so much as a twinge through the bond. I couldn't get even a hint of emotion from her. I knew she was there, but it was like she was in a coma. I would say sleep, but even in her sleep, she projected her emotions to us, usually fear or anger, her dreams haunted by nightmares.

If the scars on her back were anything to go by, the nightmares were to be expected. I knew that people who had been through something traumatic often had nightmares, anxiety, and other symptoms such as flinching at loud noises or when startled. I believed the humans called it PTSD or something like that. Whatever it was, we were lucky that the only thing to hint at the trauma she carried was the nightmares and the marred flesh that should have never been there in the first place.

Rubbing my hands over my face, I shifted from foot to foot, trying to fight the urge to pace again. I hated waiting, and this was the worst form I'd ever faced because there was absolutely nothing I could do to keep myself busy.

Arryn sat in a chair by the fire, a book in his lap, looking for all the world like he didn't have a care, but I noted that he hadn't changed the page in at least thirty minutes. He was just as concerned as Callum and I but was better at hiding it.

Brannoc was off in the kitchen, taking his mind off of the situation by cooking feasts for us, even though most of the food went to waste, all of us consumed by thoughts of Rhowyn.

Lennox sat next to Arryn, a glass of whiskey in his hand that never seemed to fully empty even though he drank from the glass regularly, his brow furrowed in concern and thought.

Master Jude and Rhowyn's father sat next to each other near the hallway, consumed in conversation as Jude tried to catch the man up on what had happened while he'd been imprisoned.

Cyerra was another story altogether. She simply went through the forms of her training, flowing from one movement to the other as she focused on her breathing. She hadn't known Rhowyn as long as we had and didn't have the same attachment to her, but her need to move echoed my own, indicating that she was just as worried.

Unable to resist any longer, I stalked toward Jude. “This shouldn't be taking so long.”

Jude watched me, searching for signs that I was about to make a break for Rhowyn's room. “It takes as long as it takes. Only Avalonia decides what is needed.”

I eyed the hallway entrance, calculating the odds that I could make it past the old man, the urge to go to her pulling at me incessantly. Despite desperately wanting to check on her, I knew that I couldn't risk waking her. I wouldn't be the cause of her death.

Not looking up from his book, Arryn said, “Sit down Baer or go help Brannoc in the kitchen. You're only making things worse for the rest of us right now.”

I wanted to argue, but I knew he was right. My anxiety only seemed to ratchet up everyone else's, and Callum was already struggling to contain his wolf. He didn't need me to make it more difficult for him. Knowing that sitting still wasn't an option, I stalked toward the kitchen, intent on trying to avail myself of Brannoc's services of feeding the growing horde of us. Halfway there, pain lanced through my chest, dropping me to my knees with a hiss.

I clutched my chest, the bond between Rhowyn and I throbbing in pain, horror, and fear. Brannoc rushed out of the kitchen, a mixing spoon in his hand. “You felt that too?” he asked me.

Unable to speak, I simply nodded. Arryn was instantly on his feet. “Felt what?”

“The bond,” Brannoc said. “It's straining. I can feel Rhowyn's pain and fear. It's....potent.” His words a struggle to get out toward the end. Apparently, he was finally feeling the same agony that I was.

I leaned forward, pushing my forehead to the ground and trying to breathe through the agony. Surely, she wasn't feeling the same intensity of pain, because if she was...

I didn't even want to finish that thought. “I'm not feeling anything,” Lennox said as I struggled to inhale the air my body needed.

“Me neither,” Callum said, suspicion tinting his words.

“I'm not either,” Arryn said, his brain switching over into problem-solving mode. “So why is Baer in the same agony that Brannoc is in?”

“It's their bond,” Jude said.

What?! Surely, he misspoke. I didn't have a bond with her other than as her consort. “What do you mean their bond?” Arryn asked him, echoing my own thoughts.

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