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"Of course. Where's Carrick? I haven't seen him all day."
Arden rubs the back of his neck, more worry piling on top of the growing mountain of it. I know how he feels.
"Arden?"
"He's in the chapel."
"The chapel? We locked the doors to that part of the monastery years ago."
"Well, he's unlocked them," Arden murmurs.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
“Yeah,” Arden agrees.
An hour later Arden still hasn't returned with the tonic. The fire in the hearth has died down to a dull ember, and the rain has settled into a light patter as the clouds part above a gently lapping sea, revealing a star splattered sky.
At some point during my conversation with Arden, Cyn had drifted off to sleep. I look at her now, her expression troubled. She looks so small and helpless lying there, her skin pale and wan against the sheets, and my heart wrenches inside my chest as I slowly trace circles against the back of her hand with my thumb, needing to touch her.
"Come back to us, Cyn," I say, repeating what we’ve all said to her over and over again these past couple of weeks.
A small moan parts her lips, and I lift my head up. "Cyn?"
Her lashes flutter against her cheeks, the long, dark fronds soft against her skin, but she doesn't open her eyes. Another moan releases, louder this time. I reach for her hand drawing it to my lips, kissing her knuckles. Pressing all the love I feel for her through my lips and into her skin, begging her silently to come back to us. She moans again, and the pain I hear in it has my heart racing.
"Cyn, I'm here. It's Lorcan," I say, reaching up to cup her face.
She frowns, her mouth parting as a sob is wrenched from her chest, and tears seep out from between her lashes.
"Cyn, it's just a dream. I'm here. I'm here."
But it isn't just a dream. It's a nightmare that she's lived over and over again these past couple of weeks. Even in sleep she can't get any respite. I watch helplessly as she thrashes around, my hand knocked away as she fights an invisible force.
“Cyn!”
Panic litters my voice as a hoarse scream rips from her chest and she jerks awake, her eyes opening, blinking rapidly as more tears pour down her cheeks. She could form an ocean with all the tears she’s cried.
"Hey, hey, you're okay. I'm here," I say, knowing it's fruitless, knowing that when she finally calms she'll retreat back into herself once more just like she’s done every occasion before now.
I ease her back onto the bed, brushing her hair back off her face, my thumbs gently swiping away at the tears as she blinks up at me.
“It’s okay,” I soothe, needing to touch her as my fingertips glide over her skin, cupping her shoulders, my thumbs gently rubbing circles across her collarbone.
Instinct takes over, something within me telling me to keep touching her when before I’d been too afraid to. So I keep stroking her skin, cupping her arms, sliding my fingers up and down their length urging her tofeel, trying to imbue all the care and love I feel for her into my touch.
Slowly her breathing settles, the trembling subsides and the tears stop falling. She blinks up at me, but this time she doesn't retreat into herself completely, there's a glimmer of life in her eyes that just wasn't there before.
"Cyn?" I question gently, daring not to hope.
A sob escapes her throat, and then she reaches for me, her arms spreading wide, wrapping around me as she pushes upwards and climbs into my lap.
“Cyn! Oh, fuck, Cyn!”
I don't hesitate, I haul her against my chest, my damn heart near beating out of my ribcage as she curls her body against mine and I wrap my arms around her. There’s strength in her grasp that surprises me, life in her limbs as she shifts closer. Her breath rushes over the bare skin of my neck, and I hear her croak as she tries to use her voice.
"I've got you. Shh, I've got you," I whisper against her hair, feeling the wetness of her tears seeping through my top. "It's okay. You're okay."
She shakes her head and clings to me even tighter, her fingers curling into my shirt, fisting the fabric as if she's never going to let go.
