Bowstrings & Velvet (Spellbound #1)

Chapter 14: Nightmares

Felix woke with a start, automatically reaching for his sword—which was nowhere near. It was a habit he had developed on the road with Isobel and Goddess Dhim when the world had been a dark place with monsters and enemies hiding in the shadows. A habit that was hard to break. After he'd sliced the curtains off his four-poster bed three times, he had decided to keep his sword well away from his sleeping spot. With plenty of King's Guards responsible for his safety, he shouldn't need it, even if he felt naked without a weapon.

A quiet whimper next to him refocused his sleep-addled brain, and he remembered falling asleep with Shae in his arms. In her bed. He still couldn't quite believe she'd allowed him to stay the night. Not that he was complaining. A quick glance out the window confirmed his suspicion that it was not yet dawn. Lighting a candle on the bedside table, he looked over at the sleeping form of his wife. She whimpered again; her face contorting with repressed emotions as she shifted restlessly.

It wasn't the first time he'd seen her like this. A few of the nights they had spent together on the road, he'd woken up to the same, but he'd never asked her about it or even mentioned it. Shae wasn't exactly forthcoming with information about herself, and he'd not wanted to jeopardise their fragile truce.

"No!" She kicked off the covers as she thrashed around.

He didn't remember it being quite this bad before. Was this because of the poison? Suddenly worried about her, he reached a hand out and put it on her shoulder. She immediately recoiled from his touch but didn't wake up.

"Shae?" Waking her might not be the best option, but she almost looked as if in pain, and he couldn't stand seeing her like that. Grabbing her shoulder a little tighter, he shook her. "Shae!"

His raised voice broke the hold of whatever nightmare was riding her, and she woke up swinging. On reflex, he caught her wrist in his hand before it connected with his face and they ended up sitting in bed facing each other, her arm still in his grip. Her chest heaved from her heavy breathing, her ample bosom straining against the fabric of the thin shift that had twisted around her body. Forcing his gaze to meet her eyes, he could tell the moment she was fully awake as her pupils finally focused on him and her arm relaxed. He released it and she let it fall into her lap.

"Felix?" A line appeared between her brows as she tried to orientate herself. "What...?"

"You had a nightmare, and I decided to wake you up."

"Oh." The way her eyes avoided his told him she knew exactly what type of nightmare she'd been having. "I'm sorry if I woke you."

"Never apologise." He gave her a lopsided smile. "How are you feeling?"

She grabbed the fabric of her shift and moved it until it untwisted around her torso. "Much better. I'm tired, but not feeling any of the strange drowsiness the poison brought on."

"That's brilliant news." Relief flooded him as it seemed she was truly on the mend. Watching over her as she slept the past two days had been worse than the stress of being on the road for months upon months as he rallied the kingdoms to fight back against the Dark Disciple. Looking over his back for the Dark God's followers was nothing compared to seeing Shae lying deathly still in that bed.

The flickering light of the candle painted her skin in warm tones, but he was fairly certain some colour had returned to her cheeks even without it. She looked almost back to normal, only tired. As long as one didn't look at her injured arm, which still showed the ugly gash, though it no longer looked filled with ink. The mere sight of it made his blood boil, and he was determined to find whoever was responsible for the attack. This would not be forgotten.

Grand Sorcerer Arawn had chosen not to stitch the wound, claiming the poison would clear out quicker if they left it open. Once Shae was on the mend, they could bind it, which she seemed to be, so once morning came, he would call on a medic to do it. He didn't want to risk it getting infected. During the war, he'd seen men succumb to infections from wounds that hadn't looked bad at all, so you could never be too careful.