Page 50 of When Bones Whisper
The answers lie in the Realm of the Dead. Return there.
The hiss of words ached in her forehead.
“No!” She stepped backward, Duke’s eyes tracking her as she did. Was it her own thoughts urging her into those things, an inner monologue brought on from trauma like Nathaniel said, or something worse, like the demon that had been stalking her?
She wasn’t even sure what was real anymore.
Turning quickly, she hurried back to the stairs before she gave into her baser urges and fled out the door without a plan.
The muscles in her legs spasmed when she climbed the stairs, despite placing all her weight on the polished banister. With labored breaths, she made it to the top before collapsing under her own weight, letting out a scream when her ankle rolled and knee let out a crack.
No matter how hard she tried to pull herself up, she couldn’t.
After a couple of minutes of sitting there, she pulled herself into a crouching position and grunted. She couldn’t keep going. It was too much for her body. Taking a quick nap on the floor was looking more appealing.
“What happened?” Nathaniel’s voice sounded from somewhere behind her. He appeared in front of her in a flash, his hair a mess, dressed only in a white nightshirt.
Frenzied, smoky eyes inspected her entire body by the time she spluttered, “Nothing. Really. I simply tripped.”
The shooting pains searing into her calves were threatening to buckle her legs again. Her expression crumpled as she whistled a breath through gritted teeth, her eyes squeezing shut.
“You are hurt. Is it the sickness that confines you to your bed?”
He knew, but only because he’d peered into her damned soul and memories the night he’d bitten her.
“Yes,” she admitted in a hiss when the pain became too much to carry. “It happens sometimes, when I walk too much, or do any exercise. I was looking for Hartley,” she lied, still feeling the remnants of the magic she had siphoned in her hands.
Heat rose through her chest and into her cheeks, reddening her skin. Thick tears slid over her freckles, and she quickly wiped them away, angry at herself for showing this to him. He would think she was being hysterical.
Yet, when she glanced up at him from her crouched position, he didn’t wear the same weary look that everyone else had who’d witnessed her at her very worst. Lines creased the corners of his eyes as her jaw locked to hold back another sob.
“You should have told me,” he grumbled and kneeled to place an arm around her.
“Oh no, you don’t have to—”
He lifted her into his arms before she could protest.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, tense in his hold.
“To your room.”
He looked down at her as he walked at a mortal’s pace, careful when turning the corners down the corridor. When they reached the doorway, he scraped his back so she wouldn’t be anywhere near the frame and placed her on the bed with Duke in tow.
His wet nose bumped her chin after he jumped on her chest, his purrs vibrating through her ribcage and into her soul. It somehow helped take the edge off the ache.
Nathaniel took a step back, his breaths heavying. “Where does it hurt the most?”
“It’s not localized,” she said in a whisper. “It’s all over, everywhere.”
With a labored breath, she tangled her fingers in Duke’s fur and closed her eyes. Even the act of stroking up hurt her wrist.Until now, she hadn’t realized how bad it had gotten. The exhaustion went beyond physical tiredness. A deep-seated weariness settled over her, eclipsing her every thought.
“I will call a doctor,” he said, watching flickers of discomfort crease her soft features.
“No, please don’t. I’ve seen four doctors, and they all think it’s a nervous disorder. Except for one who said the pain is a manifestation of my dissatisfaction from not yet being married. Another believed me to be malingering.”
“How long have you had this?”
“Years,” she confessed. “It comes and goes. “
