Demon Laird (Legacy of the Mist Clans) by Loch Kathryn

Author:Loch, Kathryn [Loch, Kathryn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: War Horse Studios
Published: 2013-10-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

That afternoon, Ronan prowled his solar searching desperately for something to take his mind off of Aidan’s words and his desire to sleep. He knew he was coiled so tightly that if he tried to sleep now, it would only result in his nightmares growing worse. He shivered, remembering how, for an instant, he thought le March had walked through the door of his solar.

God’s wounds! What was happening to him?

Lia had done so much to help him. The infection was gone, his wounds healed on his body. She had even spoken the truth when she said the scars would not be as terrible as he had feared. She had defeated his hatred and suspicion of her with kindness, compassion, and warmth. She had given so much not only to help him but also his people. She had healed his body and his heart, but even she could not heal his mind.

As if summoned by his thoughts, her distinctive knock sounded at his door. Praise the saints! “Enter,” he said softly.

She opened the door and peeked around it. “I thought I’d poke my head in and check on you.”

He grinned at her and sat at the table. “Join me, please.”

She did so, sitting in her regular chair, but she watched him like a hawk. Ronan fought not to fidget under her gaze, suddenly feeling as if every detail of his nightmares were etched for her to see in the shadows under his eyes and the lines on his face.

“You’re worrying me,” she said softly.

He ducked his head. “I dinna mean tae vex ye, lassie.”

“I know, but something has you aggravated, and I worry if it continues it will provoke your illness, and nothing I can do will help.”

He sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes. The words rose to his lips; he longed to tell her about his nightmares, about dreading sleep, but his voice froze in his throat and he could say nothing. Why couldn’t he tell her? What was wrong with him?

“I am sorry, Ronan, I did not mean to push.”

“Nay, lassie, it’s not ye… not in the least.”

Again she studied him a long moment, then finally gripped his hand. “When you are ready to tell me, I am ready to listen.”

“Of course ye are,” he said pulling her hand to his lips. This time he studied her for a long moment. “Lia, with everything that’s happened, I realize I ken almost nothing about ye.”

He saw an instant of pain and fear in her expression before she turned her face away and shrank in her chair. She tried to tug her hand from his, but this time Ronan refused to release her.

“There’s not much to tell,” she said softly, but Ronan had the sensation she was doing everything to make herself appear smaller.

Ronan leaned forward and his free hand covered hers.

She did not look up at him, instead she stared at his hand as if the simple action meant more to her than he realized.

Lia drew a deep breath into her lungs.

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