Page 47 of Luca

“Nothing in particular. I’m just happy, and so fucking in love I can hardly contain it.”

Cair mirrored my smile, his hands roving up my back to urge me closer. “As am I.”

* * *

For four days we traveled, barely stopping except to turn in for the night, passing through every tavern and inn along the path. We were back on track from our detour, only a straight day-and-a-half trek separating us from the Outerlands.

I’d given up on my ‘walk the whole way’ idea pretty fast, especially when every mile had begun feeling like a slog. Cair would fly us a decent distance before returning to the ground whenever the motion got too much for me. I was convinced I’d eaten something funny, or the unfamiliar bout of exercise was taking its toll on my body. Either way, everything was aching, and even the simplest tasks took more effort than they used to.

It may have had something to do with the tranquility pools. Maybe some sort of comedown, the crash after a high, since I’d needed suppression for twenty-odd years of anxiety and messy thoughts. Having those return was bound to have an effect, but even if that was the case, I didn’t regret going there. It would no doubt smooth itself over in another day or so, and I’d be back to my typical ole self.

Except, I’d had a cloud of exhaustion hanging over me since the ambush, a fog lingering on the sidelines. My sleep was interrupted, my nerves were frayed, and the enthusiasm and curiosity I’d had for exploring the Otherworld was depleted. Cair was worried, it was obvious in the way he fretted and kept touching me as if to appease his instincts. He insisted we take a break every time one of my sighs were even slightly off, and he had ordered Cee or Gary to scout ahead for medical supplies to aid me, but nothing worked. I assured him it was just my lazy ass not being used to this level of physical activity outside the bedroom, and that I’d obviously grown too comfortable with being waited on hand and foot, but he was never truly convinced.

I was sick. He knew it, I knew it, but I would deal with it properly when we reached Zadok. He was a mage; maybe he would know of a spell or potion to fix whatever was going on if he felt inclined to help, and we wereso close.

I’d already added days to this journey too many times. I didn’t want to stall us again.

“Would you like me to fly us the rest of the way?” Cair asked, his hand resting on my back. My stomach lurched at the thought of leaving solid ground.

“Not yet. Let me walk for a few more miles, then yeah, you can.”

“Alright, but at least take a drink. Your mouth is drying.”

I shook my head. “I’m not thirsty.”

Cair handed me the waterskin, a determined look on his face. “Just a sip. Please.”

With a strained smile, I appeased him, letting the crisp liquid trickle slowly down my throat. He was right, I was dry, and after guzzling almost half the bottle, I felt my energy pick up a little, refreshed and more awake. I wiped my sleeve across my mouth, catching the stream that had escaped my lips before nodding and carrying on.

We passed a meadow, clusters of wildflowers surrounding a formation of mossy stones in the center. My interest was piqued, which was a pleasant surprise, since I’d felt my motivation for anything even remotely stimulating dwindle bit by bit each day. But I couldn’t follow its lure. I already felt guilty for wasting time, particularly when I’d waved off many of Cair’s suggestions to rest. If I couldn’t indulge my mate’s genuine concerns for my well-being, then I couldn’t indulge my own fancies either.

“Would you like to get closer?” Cair said, obviously having noticed my longing glance at the crumbled stone, wondering about its origins.

I chewed my lip, hesitating.

“Yeah, but we’re almost at Rosewood Creek. I’m so close to possibly getting answers I’ve waited a lifetime for, so I don’t want to delay us anymore.”

His fingers grazed my cheek, the touch feather-light. “We can be quick.”

I nodded, and veered off the path in the direction of the stones, feeling a burst of the elation I’d mourned since the pools. However, there was a sudden stinging pain in my side, and I couldn’t catch my breath. I tried to push through, to reach the center of the rock creation, but it was persistent. There was a fallen tree on the periphery, so I headed toward it instead, intending on sitting a while and admiring the scenery from afar.

“I need to stop,” I murmured, my head swimming and my legs weak. It felt as though every ounce of color was draining from me. There was a brief swoop of nausea, and then nothing. My heart was beating too fast, my eyes losing focus, and I couldn’t figure out how to lift one foot in front of the other. Was I stumbling?

Was I falling?

Slowly, I blinked. My mate had me cradled in his arms as he knelt beside me in the tall, tickling grass. There was a concerned furrow to his brow, and I tried to smile, to assure him that everything was fine—I just needed to rest for a moment in the pretty glade—but I didn’t know if the words were coming out.

“Luca…” His voice was muffled and distant, but he sounded frightened. Sad. Why was he sad? “Talk to me.”

A scent drifted past my nose, woodsy and comforting—the scent ofhome—and I burrowed closer to it, into its familiar warmth. The pain in my side was a dull throb, barely there, and quickly fading with the deep swell of peace settling in my chest.

Sleepy.

Wet droplets hit my cheek. Was it raining? I liked the rain. It was calm.

Cold.

“Luca, sweetheart, please say something…”

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