Page 55 of Laird of Wrath

“The attacks?” Mabel interrupted. “There have been attacks?”

Rhea had refrained from speaking about the attacks. She had wanted to bring her sister up to date once they were alone, but now it was too late.

“Aye,” she said. “In fact, there was one just yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” Mabel gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, her food forgotten. “Are ye all right?”

“Aye, I’m fine,” Rhea assured her. “We all are. Callum and I… we were at the loch when we saw smoke from afar. We followed it to the village and found everythin’ on fire.”

For a brief moment, she paused and waited to see if Callum would like to add something, but he remained silent. Not only that, but he was also decidedly not looking at any of them, even though he seemed to be listening to her.

“And then Callum rushed straight into the crowd and saved everyone,” she continued. “Ye should have seen him. He somehow got everyone to organize, and then he helped them put out the fires. He was fighting the flames for so long, and I was so worried about him, but what could I have done? He’s the Laird, and he wouldnae have listened anyway. He wanted to save those people. And he did.”

Mabel and Sienna listened to her with wide eyes as she spoke, but Callum kept avoiding her gaze. In fact, he seemed to be avoiding everyone’s gaze, focusing instead on the food in front of him, which remained mostly uneaten. He had only managed to cut his meat into tiny pieces, as if he was preparing it for a toddler.

As the conversation drifted to the next ball that would be held in the castle, Rhea took the opportunity to lean closer to Callum and whisper to him, “Ye seem… upset.”

He grunted. “I’m fine.”

“Callum—”

“I’m fine,” he insisted through gritted teeth.

The look he gave her made her lean away, sharp as a blade, ending the discussion before it even began.

Something was wrong; Rhea could tell. Anyone with a pair of eyes could tell, but no one would say a single thing. No one would dare. Even Rhea herself would rather not push it, since she knew just how difficult he could be when he decided he didn’t want to share something with her.

Let him mope. If he willnae speak to me, there is nothin' I can do.

No matter how much her heart ached.

18

The hallways were cold at that time of night, and Rhea crept her way through the wing to get to Sienna’s chambers.

It was late, and no one was roaming the halls, but the two of them had already arranged to meet, as neither woman could sleep well. And with Mabel there, Rhea’s nights were bound to be sleepless, as she constantly worried for her sister now.

She hadn’t known things at home were this bad, though she should have guessed. She should have known when she left that her father wouldn’t get better and that Mabel would have to assume her duties. But what was there to do? Her father had been the one to send her to Callum, and no matter how much she had protested, he had given her no other choice.

She was about to turn the corner to Sienna’s chambers when she passed by Callum’s door. Sounds coming from deep within his chambers gave her pause. A moan, then a scream. Sounds that reminded her of a wounded feral animal.

She froze. These were his chambers, his private space, and she didn’t know whether she should intrude. But he sounded as if he was in terrible pain, as if he was suffering, and she couldn’t help but worry that something had happened to him, that he needed help.

It was that thought that forced her to step forward and knock on the door. Only to receive no answer. Panic rising within her, she grabbed the handle and threw the door open.

Callum’s chambers were sparsely furnished, as if he had chosen to give up all luxuries for the other rooms. Rhea picked her way in the orange glow of the candlelight and the fire in the grate, passing by a worn couch, a faded carpet, and a low scratched table.

She reached the bedchamber and found him in bed, tossing and turning, the covers tangled around his legs. Even in the darkness, she could see the sheen of sweat on his forehead.

Callum didn’t react to her presence. It seemed that he was asleep, deeply so, and this was nothing but the result of a nightmare. The room was far too cold for him to be sweating like this, to soak the sheets underneath him.

Rhea approached the bed, her brow furrowed in concern as she perched on the edge of the mattress. Her hands hovered uncertainly over him for a brief moment.

Was it better to let him sleep through it or wake him?

She didn’t know, but she couldn’t bear to keep watching him like this.

Ever so gently, she reached for him and laid her hands on his shoulders, shaking him. “Callum… Callum, wake up.”