Page 186 of The Call of Crimson
“Then what are we going to do?” I ask.
“It’ll be dawn in an hour. I’m going to sleep while Elijah keeps watch. Once there’s enough light, I’ll use my Madilim Gift to shield us while you sleep.” Cillian begins laying out his bedroll, Midnight dropping to his knees to sleep next to his rider. “It’ll only be a few hours, but it must be enough for now.”
Elijah lowers himself to the forest floor, his back against a wide oak tree. It takes only minutes for Cillian’s breathing to even out into a rhythm that tells me he’s asleep.
I feed Alanis a carrot from the pack before dropping next to Elijah.
His eyes close for several moments before he opens them again and says, “Hey, B.”
My heart rate spikes knowing he’s connected to Breyla right now. I cup his face in my hands, turning him to face me. “I miss you,” I whisper.
Elijah chuckles, brushing a chaste kiss against my lips. “Now that Ophelia has hijacked my message, we should probably let you know you’ll be seeing us shortly.”
Elijah’s shoulders fall, defeat lining every inch of his handsome face. “We’ll explain more when we arrive, but Rimor…” He gulps, struggling to get out the words that weigh so heavily on us both.
“Rimor is no longer safe,” I finish the words Elijah can’t seem to voice. “Cillian is bringing us to you. We’re so sorry we failed you.”
“Love you, brat,” Elijah finishes, ending the connection and dropping his head.
“You should sleep,” he says, but wraps an arm around my shoulder, nonetheless.
My fingers trace simple patterns on his thigh as I snuggle into his side, basking in his warmth. “I’ll sleep when you sleep,” I say, fighting a yawn.
He presses a kiss to the crown of my head and whispers, “I don’t deserve you.”
I don’t bother dignifying that sentiment with a response.
When I wake, I’m still wrapped in his arms, but we’re lying down on Elijah’s bedroll. I must have fallen asleep at some point and not woken when Elijah relocated us. The mid-morning sun streams down on our faces. It’s unusually warm for the season, so I bask in the heat for just a minute longer before moving.
I move slowly so as not to disturb Elijah’s still sleeping form behind me.
Cillian’s staring at me, his eyes calculating like he’s studying something intriguing. “You sleep so soundly,” he finally says.
I begin the motions of packing Alanis’ saddle in preparation for moving out. “It’s only thanks to him.”
“How so?”
I pull the cloak around me tighter, a sudden breeze sweeping through and chilling me. “I sleepwalk. Between that and the nightmares, I’ve nearly ended myself at least once. He keeps them at bay.”
Cillian considers my words for a moment. “It’s good that you have him, then.”
“He’s a blessing I didn’t know I needed,” I say, emotion tightening my throat.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
BREYLA
The palace is quiet. It’s the kind of quiet that brings peace rather than unease. As promised, the staff had left breakfast for us this morning, but not a single one of them was anywhere to be seen now.
I trade my normal spiced tea for steamed cocoa in celebration of the Winter Solstice. The liquid chocolate coats my tongue, creating a nostalgia that reminds me of home. Flakey biscuits coated in butter and sweet berry preserves comprise my breakfast as I curl into an overstuffed wing-back chair in front of a fireplace.
A tall, full-bodied pine tree stands in the corner to the side of the fireplace. Strands of tinsel are woven amongst the branches, the light from the fire catching them and sending shards of dancing light across the room.
Elijah’s message had awoken me before dawn and left me simmering with nervous anticipation. On the one hand, I was elated at the prospect of seeing two of my closest friends after months apart. On the other hand, their warning about what’sbecome of my kingdom left me sick to my stomach. Grief, guilt, and anxiety form an unpleasant combination in my gut.
With no staff on site today, the rest of the castle’s occupants were still tucked cozily in their beds. There are no meetings, no obligations, and no courtly proceedings to attend to today. I relish the tentative silence as I shove another savory and sweet biscuit in my mouth.
“Happy Solstice,” Aurelius says, his voice like velvet dragged over gravel from sleep.
