Page 56 of Laird of Wrath

Callum’s eyes snapped open, boring right into her. There was no recognition in them, nothing to suggest that he knew where he was or who she was.

Before she realized it, Rhea found herself on her back on the mattress, Callum hovering above her. His gaze was that of a stranger. He had never once looked at her like this before, with so much madness and rage, as if he was about to attack her.

Her breath caught in her throat, her heart threatening to jump right out of her chest. Fear surged through her, cold and paralyzing, and she found herself unable to move, unable to fight back, unable to do anything to protect herself from his wrath.

All she could do was shrink from him, making herself smaller on the bed as he stared down at her with those wild, feral eyes, praying to the Lord that he would spare her.

“Rhea?” Recognition flickered in his eyes.

And just like that, Rhea found herself looking at the man she knew, the rage and fear clearing from his eyes.

For a moment, he didn’t move. He hovered over her, sweat still dripping down his forehead, his breath coming fast and hard, as if he had been running rather than sleeping. Then, he rolled off her abruptly and sat on the very edge of the bed, dropping his head into his hands.

“It’s late,” he said, his voice muffled. “Go to sleep.”

Rhea hesitated for a moment. Naturally, Callum didn’t want her there, just as she had predicted. But she was reluctant to leave him alone. If anything, she figured this was the time for her to stand by his side, to insist, to not let him send her away.

He took a deep breath, but his shoulders shook and so did his hands. She watched him—the tension in his body, the rigid set of his shoulders. He looked ready to bolt at any moment, and there was no doubt in her mind that he would if she pushed him too hard, or even if he was simply given the chance.

“I’m nae goin’ anywhere,” Rhea declared firmly as she pushed herself up and scooted down next to him.

Callum didn’t move, but she had the distinct feeling that he tried to pull away from her, to shrink away, to put more distance between them. She didn’t let him. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, and though he didn’t flinch, he certainly stiffened under her touch.

He didn’t speak. He only kept breathing deeply, in through his nose and out through his mouth. She had never seen him sotortured, battling with himself like this. She had never seen him in so much pain, and she was at a loss for what to do.

I shall do what I always do for people who are upset. This isnae different.

She wondered if she was lying to herself, even a little. She wondered if it was different, more than she cared to admit. She was not certain Callum would open up to her in such a state or even appreciate her comfort.

Was she only trying to make herself feel better? Would it be better if she simply left him alone?

She couldn’t stomach the idea. Leaving him alone could not be the right thing to do.

“Just leave, Rhea,” he rumbled.

She didn’t move an inch. She didn’t even respond. She only sat there, waiting for him to relax, her hand firm on his shoulder.

“What do ye nae understand? I daenae want ye here,” he grunted.

“Ye’re only tryin’ to push me away again,” she pointed out, her voice calm and quiet. “Ye daenae have to do that, Callum. Ye daenae have to push me away, so please daenae. I willnae allow ye to hide from me like this again.”

Callum didn’t try to move away from her, nor did he insist again that she leave. If he truly wanted her gone, he would have kicked her out of his chambers. Instead, he sat there, with his head in his hands, quiet and unmoving like a statue.

An eternity seemed to pass before he lifted his head and met her gaze, the tremors having ceased. His eyes were clearer, more alert, as if the remnants of his nightmare had slowly begun to ebb away.

He shifted on the bed, sitting with his back to the headboard, and Rhea did the same after toeing off her slippers. They sat there in companionable silence, side by side. Rhea couldn’t help but smile when she felt his hand slide over her own, simply resting there.

“Do ye wish to talk about it?” she asked eventually.

Callum didn’t look at her. “What is there to talk about? Everyone has nightmares.”

“Aye,” she acknowledged. “But nae like this.”

It was a risk, saying something like that to him, but he didn’t immediately shut her out, and she took that as a victory. Perhaps he had finally resigned himself to the fact that she wouldn’t let him pull away from her as he had before, and so he decided there was little point in trying.

“It’s always the same,” he said, his gaze growing distant, as it always did when he remembered the war. “It’s always the same scene, the same battlefield, the same soldiers around me, dying. Their blood… it’s everywhere. There’s so much of it that I can… I can smell it in me dream.”

Rhea couldn’t imagine it. She didn’t know the smell of blood, the sight of so much of it that it soaked the earth. She couldn’t imagine seeing corpses covering the ground, one after the other, a veil of death over the land.