“Agreed,” I say too.
Wraith shakes his head again, but doesn’t speak aloud. We’ll convince him. He’ll get there. He has to.
There’s so much more at stake than just our individual souls.
CHAPTER 17
Find My Son!
* * *
Melinda Stormblood, Queen of the Fae
The whispers wake me again. They’re worse this time.
I jolt upright in bed, heart hammering against my ribs, the silk sheets tangled around my legs like vines trying to drag me back down. My skin is clammy with sweat despite the cool night air drifting through the open balcony doors. Beside me, Hawke sleeps soundly, his face peaceful in the dim moonlight, completely oblivious to the voice that's been haunting my dreams for weeks.
Melinda...
It's there again. I press my fingers against my temples, trying to quiet the sound. It doesn’t work.
Melinda... come to me...
"Ugh, shut up," I mutter under my breath, careful not to wake Hawke. He has enough to worry about without knowing his pregnant wife is hearing the crazy queen’s voice all the way from Camelot.
I ease out of bed. Hawke shifts slightly but doesn't wake. Moonlight catches on his features, highlighting the strong line of his jaw, the curve of his lips. The sight of him still makes my heart skip a beat, even now. I could stare at him for hours and be happy.
You. Must. Come.
I pad silently across the cool stone floor to the massive copper bathtub that dominates one corner of our chambers. It's empty now, but that can be fixed. I wave my hand over the ornate tap. Water begins to flow and steam rises in lazy curls.
My morning sickness has been keeping me close to the bathtub anyway. Hawke won't question finding me here if he wakes. It's the perfect cover for why I'm up at this ungodly hour. Again.
The voice has been getting stronger every night for weeks. At first, it was just a whisper, easily dismissed as a dream. But now it's constant, insistent, a presence that claws at my mind until I'm afraid I might actually be losing it. Plus, I can hear it when I’m awake now too.
I sit down onto the edge of the tub to wait for it to fill, dropping my head into my hands. I'm so fucking tired. Between the morning sickness and the nightly voice, I haven't had a decent night's sleep in weeks.
Siva, I call silently to the dragon tattoo on my wrist.
The ink shifts, colors brightening as the small dragon circles my wrist once before settling. Yes, Domina?
I think I'm losing my mind.
Because of the voice? The dragon's mental voice is gentle, lacking its usual snark.
I jerk my head up in surprise. You know about that?
Of course I do. I'm part of you. I hear what you hear.
Why didn't you say anything?
I was waiting for you to tell me, Siva replies. Or to tell the King. Which you should have done weeks ago.
I sigh, watching steam curl from the water. I wanted to believe it would go away.
And now?
It's getting worse. Tonight it's... urgent. She wants me in Camelot.
