Chapter 10
My head hurt.
At least this time I’d been prepared for the pain.
The potion I’d developed helped some, and when the voices were still too many and too loud to discern, I’d meditated, imagining a wall around the thread—similar to when I’d severed it before.
But this time, I allowed the thread to exist there, still glowing behind my mental bricks, hopeful I could one day dig it out from behind the wall.
But that day wasn’t today.
Reading the whisper book had taken longer than expected, and I’d pushed myself to the limit to finish it in a single day.
Granted, it was a slimmer book, but it was a struggle to walk to Friar’s to retrieve the next dose of the love potion for Leif.
Though I swore I was going to stop giving it to him, especially after finding out the book I’d read to myself contained trust, I knew I needed to keep it up a little while longer.
Just until I could confess that I wasn’t pregnant.
Which, judging by the cramping in my gut as I reclined on our bed, would be today. I poured a chalice of wine for Leif, adding in the potion before placing it on his bedside table.
Another cramp hit me.
The world blurred, my head feeling like someone was pounding on the inside as I placed the menses cloths in my undergarments and returned to bed, a cool cloth gripped in my hand.
That was how Leif found me. He rushed to my bedside, gripping my hand in his. “Runa, my heart, what’s wrong?”
I took a deep breath, my gaze flickering to the full glass of wine.
I was about to find out how far the trust magic would go.
“Leif,” I breathed, allowing the emotion to build in my voice. “I . . . I got my menses.”
His blue eyes widened, and I swore I saw a tear bunch in the corner.
I felt sadness for a moment, for the loss of his dream, but it faded as I remembered the day he’d forced me to bond to him.
To the brand he’d seared into my wrist, and the tattoo he’d asked me to rid my ribs of. “But . . . but . . . Friar said—”
“We will just have to try again,” I lied, pinching my eyes closed in fear he would see the secret relief in my heart. While Leif had done something terrible to me, there were still some things I didn’t enjoy lying to him about. Some dreams I didn’t relish in crushing.
He crawled into bed next to me, one of his hands coming across my midsection, the other coming to smooth down my hair. “Is there anything I can get you? Friar, maybe?”
I shook my head, the task difficult with the cool cloth on my forehead. “I only need rest.” I would inform Friar of what went wrong the next day. I would also inform her I no longer needed the love potion.
I didn’t need to fake my exhaustion, and it wasn’t long until I drifted off into dreamland.
“Runa.”
My eyes snapped open at the voice I would know anywhere.
I was in the magical woods again, sitting on the same stone as before, Otho standing just out of arms reach, his hands buried in his pockets.
“What’s going on? I’m having trouble locating you, and you haven’t come here when I’ve called for you.”
I gazed up at Otho, the man I once would have done anything for, but I struggled to find my emotions for him. Instead, I felt . . . empty. I knew it had something to do with the potion I’d been taking but—
“I’m tired, Otho.”
I don’t know why I said it—well, other than it was the truth. But I knew there was nothing Otho could do about it. I turned my head, needing to clear my thoughts without his gray gaze fixed on me. Even when I had two men who professed to be my weighted, I still felt so alone.
I focused on the lines in the tree stump instead, curious how anything could grow in the dream space without bugs to cultivate it. Unless . . .
“Talk to me, Runa. Tell me what’s going on.”
I shook my head, still not looking in the general’s direction. “No, you need to tell me what’s going on.”
He was silent then. So silent, I turned back in time to see the frown on his features before he was able to place his emotionless mask back in place. “I can’t, Runa.”
That answered my question—the trust magic didn’t work in this dream space . . . or Otho was somehow immune.
Or he truly didn’t trust me, no matter how much magic I read to myself.
I turned away, crossing my arms over my chest, even though it wasn’t anywhere near cold in the dream world. “I don’t understand, Otho. Do you not trust me?”
“It’s not that—”
“What is it then?” I felt bad for cutting him off, but I was tired of hiding my pain over the situation we’d found ourselves in.
The pain that had made me hate myself. “You promised you would come for me; it’s been a whole season.
I understand why you couldn’t write to me, but here we are, in a dream world only the two of us can access and you still can’t tell me what’s going on or when you plan to come for me, so .
. .” I stood then, taking a step closer until we were only a breath away from one another.
“Tell me why. Tell me why I’m not deserving of your plans.
Why I’m not deserving of a rescue attempt. ”
“Runa,” he started, but I realized I wasn’t done with my tirade. It felt good to release all of my anger, even if it wasn’t exactly all meant for him.
“Are you afraid I’ll tell? That Leif will torture it out of me?” His face paled. “I’ve withstood torture before, Otho, without divulging secrets. In fact . . .” I ripped up my sleeve then, glad to see the brand was still part of my dream body. “I already have.”
Otho’s eyes shone, full of emotions I couldn’t read. “Runa, you have to understand, Leif is as slippery—”
I reeled back, as if I’d been slapped. “You really think I would fall in love with him again?”
Otho crossed his arms. “You already did, once.”
Pain tore through my chest. Even though Otho hadn’t done anything to me, those words hurt more than almost anything he could have said to me.
“A woman can have more emotions for a man than just love, Otho. You can care for someone’s well-being without being in love with them.
” I glanced up in time to watch as he frowned and shook his head.
“I’m not that woman anymore, Otho. I haven’t been for a long time. ”
I wanted to walk away, go somewhere to lick my wounds in private, but as much as I struggled, I couldn’t snap myself into waking up. I stepped off the stone we stood on, walking toward the dream forest.
“I’m sorry,” came the apology from behind me.
I still didn’t want to listen to his lies anymore. I shook my head, trying to discreetly pinch my wrist to wake myself, but my body didn’t obey, trapping me here. With him.
A hand landed on my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks. As much as I wanted to flinch away, my heart, the little traitor, had me leaning into his touch.
“I really am sorry. And I promise, I will fix this. Just follow Friar’s plan, and we can talk about everything else after.” His fingers dug into my shoulder, not enough to cause pain, but enough for me to know he was fighting the urge to tuck me into his chest as he turned me around to face him.
I mulled over his words. “I wish you all would have consulted me before planning something I was to be a part of.” I sighed. “You all are the same, and I’m just a . . . piece to be used. I—”
“Don’t say that, Runa.” Otho’s fingers gripped my chin, locking my eyes with his. “You are more important to me than anything else in the Heimland. You must understand—”
I jolted awake, gasping for breath.
Reality came back in pieces, I was in a dark room, in Ralheim—No, Malheim. There was something on my head—a wet cloth. I’d had a headache. And there was an aching in my gut, which had me climbing out of bed and sprinting into the bathing chamber.
It wasn’t until I returned to bed that I noticed the difference.
Leif wasn’t in bed.
And the glass of wine was still full.