Page 52 of A Courage of the Chosen

That dream from a few days ago plays on repeat, whether it’s another vision, or the workings of my imagination, is anyone’s guess. With each new report, I replay their screams, the frightened looks on the faces of the little ones, and the valiant way they attempted to fight.

“We keep trying,” I repeat on a loop, but only Callahan and Brodie back me in the endeavor. Because, while I may have witnessed it in a dream, they’ve seen it for real. They’ve often been the only ones to actually help.

Lady Calder is growing worried about how long we can continue losing supplies and soldiers, and even Hector is increasingly silent when the discussions turn heated.

The places being targeted are the ones that yield the highest levels of crops. Right now, we have enough in reserves, but they won’t last forever. Units of guards are deployed to the remaining farming villages to protect what we have left, while new fields are sown so that we don’t push ourselves into famine.

It doesn’t feel like enough, and just like in that dream where I was forced to watch, we’re on the back foot while the Dorche continue to push their advantage.

My voice is growing smaller as the days pass by. We haven’t spoken again of the need to address the court, the topic expertly skirted by one of the council members every time I mention it. I leave that room hollowed out, and my resolve is slowly being chipped away, one chunk at a time.

No wonder they’ve not brought this to an end by now. They spend far too much time talking and not enough time actually doing something that might help.

Callahan and I have taken to training in the evenings, a way for both of us to release the frustration of going round in circles. And every night, I feel too close to that beast inside me that grows more impatient.

Tavish has continued to channel his thoughts to me along the dark threads that are the exact opposite to the ones I share with Callahan.

Sly comments about the council.

Requests to join him.

Promises of power and ruin.

I ignore them all.

While the bond between us is what troubles me in the early hours of the morning, I’ve at least been able to grapple some command over it. Enough that I’m sure he doesn’t know what we’re doing or planning.

It operates in a similar way to the bridge with Cal, but is able to find new ways around my hold, and plant itself at the forefront of my consciousness like it has a mind of its own. So I’ve spent time reworking the internal walls I use to protect myself, constantly shifting them with the darkness trying to probe into the furthest corners of who I am.

I should tell Callahan, I really should. Only when I think I’m brave enough to speak the words to him, he looks at me like I’m something precious—something worthy—and I swallow them down again, as his sentiment about being better off dead echoes on a soundtrack I can’t press pause on.

Callahan has spent every night in my bed, and held me close while I’ve fought the tears that have wanted to come. During those sessions where we’re locked away, he’s the fearless and unreadable man I first met, and I’m pretty certain more than one of the council members are genuinely fearful of him. But with me, when it’s just us, he continues to let me in and asks for nothing in return.

We haven’t had sex. I’ve not wanted to, and the secret grows arms and legs the longer I hide it to the point that it feels as though there’s someone else lurking when we’re alone.

He sees it but he doesn’t push, and it goes against everything he is to hold back. He just patiently waits for me to be ready. I’m torn between relief that he hasn’t asked, and wishing he would demand the truth from me.

My hair is still wet from my shower, and dampens the neckline of the oversized T-shirt I threw on to have dinner after we’d gotten clean from tonight’s training in the yard. The stone floor by the single window is cold beneath my bare feet, and I let it ground me as I observe the view.

The breeze trickles through the forests of Elfayne, the branches and leaves swaying gently under its caress. Ripples pebble over the surface of lake Ederline, and rain-heavy clouds roll across the darkening sky as the day crawls to an end.

The beauty of this world is raw and majestic, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be, I just wish the circumstances that led me here were completely different. That I was completely different, and more capable of dealing with all of this.

Strong arms wrap around me from behind, and Callahan’s nose skims along my throat. “It’s going to be okay.”

I sigh as I lean my head back against his chest. “How do you know that?”

“I’ve been fighting this war for a long time. Spent every day thinking it was going to be my last, strangling what hope I had that we can win. I know it seems like we’re one step behind them, but we’re doing more now than we ever have.”

“It doesn’t feel like we’re doing enough. It’s one step forward and three steps back. I’m tired, Cal.”

Callahan rests his head on my shoulder, squeezing me to him. “I know.”

I nearly laugh. I’ve been at this a fraction of the time he has, and here I am complaining that I’m tired, when he stands stoic and strong in the face of it.

“How do you do it?” I ask him.

He’s quiet for a moment, kissing my cheek once before he answers.