Page 24 of Sunder

Maybe he frowned. Maybe he wanted to argue with her.

But he didn’t.

He just sighed, and handed it back to her, watching as she uncapped it gratefully and swallowed it all without thought to the bitterness.

She waited for the momentary rush, for her heart to beat more rapidly in answer to whatever concoction the latest healer had brewed.

She frowned.

All was quiet.

She was still tired. Worn thin and desperate for the normalcy and comfort of her own room.

“Better?” Athan asked, rubbing at the back of his neck and sending her a dubious feeling across the bond.

“No,” she croaked out, rubbing at her throat, then the space in her chest where the tangle of bond had lived for so long. “What was that thing?”

He made a strange sort of noise in the back of his throat. “Brum,” he gave in answer, as if that would be all the explanation she required.

She was too tired of this. “I’ve never heard of a brum.”

Not that she’d paid much attention to the books on the wildlife on their planet.

She swallowed.

Not true.

She had, when the books were filled with pictures, and she was small and nothing seemed more important that learning about how long ahesper’shorns could grow, or how many babies they could have in a season.

“No,” Athan corrected. “That’s not... that’s his name.”

She blinked stupidly for a moment, trying to make sense of him. “He lives there?” She stared up at the house, andmaybe it made sense why it was separated from the rest of the surrounding buildings. “That is his dwelling?”

Athan laughed, a breathless sort of sound that was light and lively and suggested he was not unused to doing so. “Well, I mean. It’s mine. But his. Or...”

If he suggested it was hers, she was going to begin shuffling home again.

“I did not remember how intimidating he could be if you do not know him. I should have warned you.” He took a step nearer and held out his hand. “I can put him in another room for a bit. Let you get settled without worrying about him. I want you to be comfortable.”

She rubbed harder at her chest.

“Orma,” he urged, reaching out for her. Was he going to pick her up again without waiting for her answer? She took a step backward in case he got anymore ideas.

“I don’t...” she started, her chest feeling too tight, too empty, and she shook her head as she tried to calm herself. “I can’t...”

The tonic’s effects came all at once. Not the gentle burst of light and energy it usually gave, but a sudden rush to her pulse that felt far too much like panic.

It made her grow alarmed as Athan approached, made her skirt back and hold out her hands as if that could possibly ward him off.

“Orma,” he repeated, this time more softly. Coaxing. “Take a full breath with me.” He demonstrated what he meant, his hand coming to mimic her position, resting upon his sternum. He didn’t understand, didn’t know how it hurt, how her pulse raced, how nothing ever worked the way it should. Not when it came to her.

She felt the traitorous tears as she shook all over, trying to do as he bid, managing a half-breath by his third.

Held it.

Let it out in a tremulous puff of air.

“That’s it,” he praised. “Again.”

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