Chapter 43
Caelan
I pummelled the grain bag, my fists smashing against it over and over and over again.
I needed this. Needed the relentless momentum.
The mind-numbing motion. The release of all that anger that had been boiling inside me for the past hour.
The past week. It had yet to subside, despite the endless punches.
It swelled and swelled and swelled. Trying to devour me.
Trying to drag me under. I wanted to scream, to rage.
I wanted to unleash all my pent-up frustration and release it into the world.
Visions of her were still fresh in my mind.
Her blood.
Her screams.
Her terror.
It was too much. And this was the only way I knew how to process it. It was either this, or I would hunt that bastard down and kill him. I still planned to. But for now, I channelled that rage and took it out on the bag instead.
I didn’t pause as the door opened behind me. I knew instinctively it was Aenan. If anyone was to truly understand how I felt, it would be him. He didn’t say a word. Didn’t need to. He simply stood opposite me and held the bag steady.
I landed another punch, two, then three, before he spoke up. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Another punch. “Not really.”
“It might help,” he persisted.
“I doubt it,” I scoffed.
“It helped Rowan.”
I stopped then. Looked at him. Really looked at him. “What do you mean? You got her to talk?”
“A little,” he admitted, his eyes clouded with… sadness? “She showed me the rest. I think it helped. She… she seems lighter.”
My heart clenched. “He pretended to be me, Aenan.” The words tasted bitter on my tongue. “He did those things to her as me.”
“I know,” he said. And his tone told me he did.
“How is she even able to look at me?” I asked. I threw another punch, the weight of guilt pressing down on my shoulders.
“To be honest, I don’t know why she looked at you before.”
He ducked when I levelled the next punch his way, grinning at me before moving behind the bag as I hit it again.
“She loves you. At least, she did,” he said, his tone softening. “I think she just needs to be reminded of that. You need to give her memories, good ones, so they outweigh the bad.”
His words struck a chord. “What if she decides she doesn’t? That she can’t love me again?”
“I don’t think that will happen,” he reassured me. “You just need to go slow, let her set the pace, so she can take back control.”
I knew he was right. He usually was, though I would never let him know that. I had to let her make the first move, let her decide how she was to move forward.
“She sat there worrying about you throughout breakfast,” he continued. “Is that the way a person acts if they don’t care for someone?”
Hope flared. “Where is she now?” I asked.
“I took her back to her rooms; she seems to feel safe there.”
“She doesn’t like to be alone.”
Aenan nodded. “I know. That’s why I told her you wouldn’t be long.” He grinned at me again. Cheeky bastard.
“Did she tell you he branded her?”
I watched as that grin slid away and steel came into his eyes. “He did what now?”
“He carved his initials into the back of her neck and then did something to the wound. It’s not yet healed. I’m going to get Jesmina to take a look at it.”
His sudden roar tore through the room, vibrating off the walls as he stalked away. Turning back around just as swiftly, he punched the bag, and I barely caught it before it swung back and hit me in the face. He continued to punch until he regained control of his anger.
When he was done, the air heaving out of him, he said, “I should have killed him.”
“You and me both, brother. You and me both.”
When Aenan left, still in a foul mood, I made straight for the bathing room, eager to freshen up before returning to my quarters for a change of clothes.
The thought of Rowan being alone for too long troubled me, especially after recalling the near panic attack she’d endured on the stairs the night before. I quickened my steps.
After scrubbing away the sweat and donning new attire, I regained a semblance of composure.
The boxing had helped, but Aenan’s words had helped more.
I was ashamed of the way I’d reacted that morning.
I knew it had been shock at seeing my worst nightmares come true, but I should have kept a better handle on my emotions and not scared her further.
I hated that she looked at me with fear in her eyes. It made my chest ache.
Rubbing said chest, I knocked lightly on her door. Her hesitant footsteps sounded on the other side.
“Rowan, it’s me.”
There was a momentary pause, and my chest clenched again, but then the lock turned, and the door swung open.
My heart.
She was so beautiful that my soul soared just to look upon her.
Every time I gazed at her, I felt she’d grown more lovely than the last, despite the shadows lingering beneath her eyes.
The light from the hall revealed her slight figure, her blue eyes swimming with trepidation that I wished to remove from them entirely.
My little bird was a warrior. So brave. So strong.
“May I come in?” I enquired, softly.
I caught the movement of her throat as she swallowed hard. For a second I thought she would deny me. But then she opened her mouth, and the sound that came out was the sweetest I had ever heard.
“Yes.” She moved back, pulling the door with her.
A smile stretched across my face and something in my chest loosened. “You spoke,” I exclaimed, stepping towards her. Her eyes widened, but I just captured her hands and pulled her towards the brocade sofa.
Aenan told me I have to practise until it becomes natural again.
“That makes sense. Does it hurt? To speak, I mean?” I was curious.
“No.” It’s just… She looked away, and I felt her uneasiness.
“I’m sorry.”
She turned back to me with those frightened eyes. What I wouldn’t give to chase away that fear.
Why?
“For this morning,” I clarified. Remorse sat heavy in my throat. “For the way I reacted. I should have handled it better.”
I… That’s okay.
I released her hands, clenching my fists as my anger swelled again. Not at her. But at myself. I looked away. “It’s not, though. I don’t want you to be scared of me, and my reaction frightened you.” She shook her head when I turned back. “It did. I could see it. So, I’m sorry.”
Her hand landed atop mine, and I couldn’t help but stare at it. At how small it was. How delicate and fragile. It was the first time she had willingly reached out to me since… Well, since everything changed.
“Caelan,” she whispered, her voice rough.
Oh gods. My name from her lips, even in that throaty voice, or maybe because of that voice, was enough to bring me to my knees. “Aye?”
I’m the one who is sorry.
“What? No!” I protested. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”
I do, though. I didn’t listen to you. Or to Aenan. You both warned me to stay on the estate. To stay close to the castle. But I didn’t. I went into the Dark Forest. If I hadn’t, none of this would have happened.
I shook my head, realising she didn’t know we had all been set up.
That if she had not been in the Dark Forest, they would have gotten to her another way.
That my trip and then Aenan’s had been orchestrated by people we thought we could trust. People who we had not been able to find since. And we had looked.
Aenan and I had gone out of our minds with worry when we had returned home to find she was missing.
When we had also realised there had been no evidence of any Dark Fae in the Mystwoods, or of the town in our southern lands having been ravaged.
We had searched for the villagers who had conveyed those messages, but they were nowhere to be found, having seemingly disappeared into the dark of the night.
Rowan continued before I could voice any of this.
As for this morning, I didn’t want you to see that, to find out in that way.
Your reaction was valid, Caelan. How else could you have reacted?
It was horrifying for me to see it, to relive it.
So I’m sorry for that. And I’m sorry for looking at you with fear, but I am trying. I really am. My mind, though…
She closed her eyes, trailing off, as if searching for the right words.
My mind gets confused sometimes. It struggles to remember I am safe here, that what I have been through is not happening anymore and that the person who did it is not the person sitting in front of me.
She opened her eyes, and the pain in them was heartbreaking.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing,” I said firmly.
The need to hold her overwhelmed me, so I pulled her into my arms, hugging her tight. Her tiny hands fluttered against my chest, and I thought for a moment she was going to push me away, but she didn’t.
“You are so strong, my darling girl. So brave. We can get through this. We will get through this. We just need to take one day at a time until your first instinct is no longer fear.”