Chapter 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.”
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 so tortured, 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.
But Callum had seen it all, and it had followed him into the castle, into a time of peace. And how could it not? How could one leave such brutality behind simply because the war had been won?
The ghosts of the dead would always follow him, haunt him. Those he had lost would not simply go away.
“It’s common… among soldiers,” he continued when she said nothing.
“Many of me soldiers had these nightmares night after night. The camp… it was full of screaming men. War has… It has affected them, Rhea. It has affected all of us. It’s a disease, this thing.
It settles in yer lungs, eats them away little by little until ye feel like ye cannae breathe, like there is nay air left in the whole world for ye. ”
Rhea let out a heavy sigh, reaching up her hand to cup his cheek and turn his gaze toward her. Callum didn’t fight it. He met her gaze, and the grief she saw in his eyes was almost enough to undo her.
“I’m sorry, Callum,” she murmured. “I’m sorry ye had to go through somethin’ like that.”
Callum nodded, his hand coming to rest over hers on his cheek. “Sometimes it feels like I’m still there. And other times, it feels like I’m dreamin’ while I’m awake. Nothin'… nothin' feels real. It’s as if the world stopped on the battlefield, and I’m… I’m outside of it now, lookin’ in.”
For a short while, they only stared at each other. Rhea couldn’t help but feel that he was searching for something inside her. Understanding, perhaps. A sign that she knew what he was trying to describe.
Then, he let out a short, bitter laugh and said, “I’m nae makin’ any sense, am I? Daenae fash, these arenae but the ramblings of a fool.”
“Listen to me,” Rhea said firmly. “Ye’re anythin’ but a fool.
What ye went through, Callum… nay one who hasnae lived it can imagine it.
It was terrible and life-alterin’ and… and unfair.
Nay one should have to go through it. But ye did it all for yer clan and yer people, and that makes ye a hero, nae a fool. ”
Callum pulled away from her, staring at the far wall of the room. She feared that she was fighting a losing battle, but this time, he didn’t ask her to leave again. He only fell quiet, as if he was lost in another memory.
“I sent so many men to their deaths,” he rasped, breaking the silence.
“Good men. I brought them there, to that battlefield, and they all died because of me. I see them dying, Rhea. Every night, I see them dying in me sleep. Me soldiers, me friends… they’re all out there, their bodies buried away from home.
How am I supposed to live, kennin’ this? ”
There were a hundred things Rhea could have told him then. A hundred empty reassurances. A hundred empty promises that she could give him, but none of them mattered.
Why would they? There was nothing she could say that would ease his pain, nothing that would change what had happened to him. All she could do was hold him, and so she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close.
At first, he stiffened and even tried to pull away, but he soon settled in her arms and let out a long sigh, his shoulders dropping.
It wasn’t much, but it was all she could give.
Ever so slowly, Callum began to relax further, the tension leaving his body. Even his pulse slowed, his heart beating steadily against her as she held him in her arms.
They stayed like that for a long time, so long that Rhea was certain he had fallen back asleep, so she leaned closer to press a kiss to the top of his head.
But Callum wasn’t asleep. He was wide awake. He lifted his head to look at her, their gazes meeting in the dim candlelight.
Without a word, Rhea leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, one that lingered, trying to give him some more comfort.
It seemed to work, for Callum melted into it, sighing against her lips, his rough edges softening ever so slightly.
He didn’t ask her to leave, nor did he move out of her arms, so she stayed there, holding him.
In the end, he fell asleep just like that, his breathing evening out, the frown on his face smoothing. Rhea soon followed him, drifting into a restful sleep.
And throughout the night, he did not wake once.