Chapter 14
Fallon
The witching hour woke me before the sun thought about peeking over the horizon.
I kept my eyes screwed shut, fighting to go back to sleep.
The dark cloud accompanying a wave of pain rolled through my mind, my body, chasing sleep like a scattering of snowflakes.
My back tightened to the point that it might crush my lungs.
My left arm twitched, attempting to leave my body altogether.
Was this the second stage of the fever, as Lenora promised?
The wind howled outside, echoing the cry inside me.
While it hadn’t been warm in this winter wonderland, the squall plunged the temperature and the pressure.
Two things my joints hated. Not now, I pleaded.
The pain didn't listen. I hadn't had a real flare-up in a while and the absence of it let hope grow in the empty place.
Please let me rest. But misery stripped sleep from me layer after layer until I stared helplessly at the ceiling.
Crushed faith blossomed fear. Was this the second stage?
Would I become even more incapable in a world that only valued fit bodies?
The thought trailed sadness behind it. A haze threatened to consume me.
I fought it. There was much to do. Productivity would surely conquer this spurt of random bodily betrayal.
I must be able to paper over it, despite how weak I felt.
Remember your methods of control. I took my potions.
I did my stretching, but no matter how many boxes I checked off, the pain always came back.
Shame tasted bitter on my tongue as I willed myself to sleep.
Until the chatter started.
Did you cover the overnight bread so it’ll rise for breakfast?
I had. I knew I had.
If you didn’t cover it, you’re not going to have bread for the morning and it was the only thing Anise ate without complaint.
Of course it was. I was a capable baker, though I didn’t have the same passion for it.
You should check if you covered that bread.
My muscles ached and my bones throbbed with every reminder. Someone was surely convulsing the arch of my foot. I didn’t want to wake Declan but I could tell, even breathing deeply, he was awake.
Guilt sloshed together with the rest of my mess. I was taking up his bed with my problems.
You’re not getting up and fixing it. What if you did it wrong?
Honey? His voice was at least more soothing than the caustic one in my head. He brushed a hand down my spine and Godds it hurt, like he trailed acid down my body. He jerked his hand away and the burning tar feeling subsided. Fear replaced it. The need to tame that loaf nearly choked me.
“I have to go check on my bread.”
“Fallon!”
I knew that tone. It said I couldn’t. I shouldn’t. I wouldn’t if I gave into it. Stiff, wobbly as a new colt, but determined, I stumbled out of bed. Hopefully, I looked eager and not pain-drunk.
“At least put on a robe,” he said.
Though it weighed a thousand pounds, the red flannel did keep me warm against the chilled, dark hallways. I fled out the door, hoping Declan would go back to sleep so he wouldn’t see this, see me.
Entering the pantry, I scanned the shelves, heart in my throat.
On the second shelf the bread sat covered, just as I remembered, and I almost sobbed into the pre-dawn night.
How was I ever going to do this? I knew I had to work on my magic, but I didn’t realize I was completely out of my depth.
Anise was so strong. Would I learn fast enough before someone found out about our deception or Evie had her baby without me?
Even Maggie would forget about me eventually.
I would be alone again. Stuck in a situation where I had to pretend everything was okay and everything was only getting worse.
A wave of pain crashed over me with my anxiety. My hands curled into swollen claws. My bread spilled over in a growth of yeast and dough, sprouting mushrooms. All the canisters of flour burst open just as Declan walked into the pantry. Flour rained down on us like some demented snow globe.
“Honey. Stop.”
He scooped me into the shelter of his warm body and I buried my face in his neck.
The pain was almost bearable when I took deep gulps of his pine and frost scent.
He didn’t try to rub my back again, for which I was grateful.
Declan just let me lean on him as hard as I wanted, unmoving except for his even breathing.
I couldn’t bear for him to see me this way. Of all the people in my life, I needed him to perceive me as strong and capable. Mornings like this made it impossible to claim I had my shit together.
“Is this a new rising technique? Aerated flour?” He held out a hand to catch some of it sifting over him.
I pulled away. Pain had me snapping before I stopped myself. “Do you have to be relentlessly positive?”
He froze. I froze. Clutching the robe against my chest, my heart threatened to beat straight out of it.
Fear and shame filled me. I always kept my sharp tongue in check when I was in pain for just this reason.
This was it. I never spoke to him like that.
It was like kicking a puppy, literally. I would see the pain in Declan’s eyes, the disappointment, and he would quit.
Leave me forever because I was a difficult, stubborn woman too wrapped up in work to react correctly to situations.
Instead, he stepped closer, gripping the shelf behind me so he caged me in his arms. His eyes glowed an eerie blue witch-light.
“Tell me. What can I do?”
I swallowed thickly, turning my head away, unmoored by his reaction. Where was the judgment? The quiet disapproval I had grown up with?
“Go back to sleep. You don’t need to be here. I just messed up the bread,” I lied. I just flat-out lied or the sadness still edging my vision would consume me whole.
His hands twitched as if they wanted to pet me, but he controlled the impulse, gripping the shelves tighter. Their groans filled the small room.
“You’re okay.”
Not ‘it’s okay.’ Or ‘you will make more.’ My chin quivered despite any intention of firming it. I heaved a deep breath in an effort to keep it together. Some part of me knew this was stupid and I was overreacting.
“You don’t have to be strong right now. You’re strong a lot of other times. Now that the bread is ruined, you can sleep in.”
He gathered me in his arms as if I weighed nothing. The floating sensation eased the pressure on my joints, lessening the ache. His warmth against my left hip acted like a balm.
“I can’t sleep.” I knew I sounded childish but I couldn’t help it. My mind still panicked.
“Then you will rest,” he said with more authority in his voice than I’d ever heard.
It settled something inside me that no independent woman would ever examine too closely. “I’m just going to keep you up with me,” I said with less conviction.
“Maybe,” he said as he took off the robe and spread me over the bed. Didn’t he care that I was a messy disturbance?
The impulse to sprawl all over him instead had to be stuffed down before I put my foot in my mouth again. “You’ll be bored.”
He pushed my hair back behind my ear, cupping my jaw. “I’ll count your eyelashes. It will be a vital fact to know about you if Momma asks.”
Wait, would she? But Declan smirked as he snuggled in next to me and pulled the blankets over both of us.
“Nothing is happening,” I whispered into our cocoon, my body still jittery, swollen and fighting to knock me out.
“Nothing needs to happen.” Declan’s eyes drifted shut until I couldn’t make out even an edge of blue. “That’s the sleeping-in part.”
“Can you…”
“Yes, Honey?” His eyes were still closed and he said it with patience, but he tensed all over.
It must have been the stupid bed making me think things.
“Can you hold me?”
All the breath left his body and he melted into the mattress. I didn't like admitting it, but I was afraid of his answer.
“Of course.” It was a bit more strangled than it was encouraging, but I needed it. I needed to say I was sorry for my barbed comment in the pantry. More than that, I just needed Declan.
His arm around me somehow tangled us closer and closer until his grasp felt like the only thing keeping me from flying apart. Everywhere we touched, the ache eased. The hurt didn’t disappear but it quieted until a stranger impulse took hold.
I wanted to bite the velvet and steel muscle beneath me. Saliva pooled in my mouth. My grip tightened and Declan whimpered. His hand grew warm against the small of my back. I set my teeth against the skin before me. Declan grunted like I had savaged him.
I jerked away. What was I doing?
His hands scrambled everywhere, plastering me to him.
“You’re fine where you are.”
The heat he radiated contrasted with the cool room, relaxing my abused muscles into compliance. Still, I wouldn’t fall asleep. I couldn’t -
The midday sun struck my face and sparkled the pool of drool I left on Declan’s chest. I had shifted while I slept, just moving directly on top of him instead. It shouldn’t have been comfortable. My joints should have been screaming, stiff, angry, but it felt like the best sleep of my life.
I sucked the unflattering drool back into my mouth. “Sorry,” I whispered, because he was awake. I turned my head to peek out from my curls.
He batted those long lashes. This close, his tongue poking out to lick his lips mesmerized me.
“You never have to apologize for taking what you need. Did you sleep well?”
I motioned to the wetness on his chest. “I’m not usually a drooler.”
Him levering up to sitting brought me against the iron rod pressed between my splayed legs.
I couldn’t swallow hard enough not to notice how Declan’s pupils consumed his blue irises.
This was fine. Lots of guys had morning wood.
It didn’t mean anything. Even if it made me a bit desperate and stirred feelings I thought my illness had stolen away for good.