Page 48 of The Call of Crimson
“M-my father,” I stutter. My breathing is rapid now, my lungs struggling to take in the oxygen necessary to breathe.
Confusion crosses his handsome face, and then understanding follows it a moment later. “No one stabbed you.” Pulling me into his chest, he rocks me back and forth. “You’re safe, darling,” he whispers, leaving gentle kisses on the top of my head.
The shock of his words startles me enough to still the tears. “What do y-you mean? I remember…”
“You were dreaming. That was all,” he reassures me. “You’re safe now. Breathe for me…”
I take a deep breath, inhaling the familiar cinnamon and chocolate scent of the male behind me. It settles me enough to gain control of myself. The pain ebbs, leaving me all together in a few breaths.
Looking around, I’m greeted by a foreign room. It’s a bedroom, but that’s all I know. “Where are we?” I ask after a few more minutes of deep breathing.
“We’re in my chambers,” he replies, his fingers still gently stroking my face.
“H-how did I get here?”
“I found you sleeping in the gardens,” he says softly. “They’re not far from my room, so I brought you here for safekeeping.”
A few moments pass before I quietly admit, “I don’t remember going to the gardens.”
Elijah places another kiss on my hair. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“I remember eating dinner with you. The kitchens made my favorite fall soup, roasted butternut squash. I was so excited for it.”
Elijah tenses before asking, “Is there anything else?”
“No, not that I can recall.”
“Ophelia, that waslast night’sdinner. It’s nearly time for dinner now.”
“What have I been doing all day?” I ask, trying to process how I could have lost that much time.
“I don’t know. I was holding court for most of it, so I hadn’t seen you until I found you in the gardens.”
“I didn’t show up for court?” I ask in disbelief. That was one of the tasks Breyla entrusted to Elijah and me, one I desperately wanted to prove my worth for. I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.
“No, you didn’t. I figured you had overslept and didn’t want to disturb you. I know you haven’t been sleeping well.”
That was putting it mildly. I had barely managed a few hours of sleep each night since my brother’s death. It had only grown worse as the nightmares intensified.
“You’re telling me I have nearly an entire day unaccounted for?”
“It would seem that way,” he says, gently squeezing my shoulder.
I remain quiet, trying to make sense of the time I can’t account for.
“Do you want to tell me about the dream?” Elijah asks after a moment.
“It was of…thatnight,” I whisper. “Except Layne didn’t die. The dagger hit me like it was supposed to. I died in your arms.”
“But you didn’t die. You’re safe, darling,” Elijah reassures me, but I still can’t shake the phantom feel of that blade embedded in my chest.
“Elijah, I feel like I can’t trust my own mind.”
“You went through something traumatic. It inflicted wounds on a soul-deep level. Your mind, soul, and heart will take time to mend. You may not ever completely heal, but you will get better.”
I contemplate his words and silently wonder how long it takes for a soul to heal.
Hours later, I find myself wandering the halls of the castle as the rest of the world sleeps. Having slept most of the day and losing nearly all the last twenty-four hours, I was restless.
