Page 25 of Laird of Wrath

“What?” she echoed.

“What do ye mean what?” Rhea asked. “Ye always tell me what’s wrong. Why nae now? When will I find out? Why cannae ye tell me now?”

“Callum should tell ye,” Sienna said.

That only worried Rhea more.

Why should Callum be the one to tell me? Is it about him? Is it about…

“I’d rather ye tell me now,” she pressed, trying to keep her composure.

“I’d rather he tells ye instead,” Sienna insisted.

“Sienna, either ye tell me, or I’ll go find him right now and demand an answer,” Rhea threatened, rising from her seat.

Sienna was quick to grab her arm and pull her back down. “I daenae think ye should bother him right now. He’s very busy. And he’ll tell ye once he’s ready.”

“I daenae care how busy he is,” Rhea scoffed, making to stand once more before Sienna pulled her promptly back down. “Sienna, I’m serious. If ye daenae tell me, I will go and demand an answer from him. This isnae funny.”

“Nay,” Sienna mumbled. “It truly isnae.”

For a few moments, the two women simply stared at each other—a battle of wills. Then, Sienna took a deep, steadying breath, shaking her head.

“I wish I wasnae the one to tell ye this, but… Callum might be leavin’ again soon.”

Rhea froze. It was as if her entire body was suddenly immobilized by a greater force. A numbness spread from her limbs up to her torso, all the way to her jaw, culminating in a ringing sound when it reached her ears.

“What?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. She didn’t even know if Sienna had heard her. “What do ye mean? Where will he go?”

“I think… I think he should be the one to tell ye that,” Sienna sighed.

Rhea’s fear soon morphed into something sharper, something darker. The numbness receded, turning into a cold rage.

“I think ye should tell me.” Something in her tone must have convinced Sienna to tell her the full truth.

“There might be another war.”

That enraged Rhea more than anything else she could have heard.

“Another war? Has helosthis mind?”

This was madness. They didn’t have the resources for another war. They didn’t have the men, at least not as many as they used to. They didn’t have the gold that would bring them more manpower either. And they certainly didn’t have the guards they would need or the crops or even the morale.

How could Callum simply march them into another war without any consideration to any of these facts?

Nay, nay, he has considered it. Of course he has. But he thinks he can win.

On their wedding night, Callum had been so certain he would come back victorious. There was no doubt in Rhea’s mind that the same was true now.

She had believed him then, but she didn’t believe him now.

When she stood for the third time, she didn’t let Sienna stop her. There was no stopping her now. She stomped out of the drawing room, making her way through the castle like a storm until she reached Callum’s chambers. She didn’t even bother knocking on the door before throwing it open and barging in.

“Have ye lost yer mind?” she snapped, with no mind to what she would find inside.

But then her gaze landed on Callum, and she froze once more, though not from rage this time. He was shirtless, in the middle of changing his clothes, the scarred skin of his torso on full display, along with the bulging muscles of his chest and arms.

Clothed, Callum looked imposing, impressive. Now, Rhea couldn’t find the right word to describe him. He was still imposing—she doubted he could ever be anything less—but there was something else, something almost vulnerable, as if she was not meant to see his scars. And yet, when he spoke, there was nothing vulnerable about him.