Highland Sacrifice (Highland Wars Book 2) by Knight Eliza

Author:Knight, Eliza [Knight, Eliza]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Knight Media, LLC
Published: 2015-01-29T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

WHY wouldn’t she wake?

“Ceana.” Macrath shook her. “Wake.”

Sweat slicked her forehead when he ran his hand across it. Her nightrail was soaked, making the fabric cling to her skin. Her entire body trembled, and she tossed first one way and then another. Her hands thrust out roughly, nearly catching him in the jaw.

He gently blocked her blows, calling out softly to her to wake as her foot thrust out, kicking him in the ribs. He rubbed the sting, keeping an eye out for any more kicks.

She called back, but still did not wake.

She was fighting something. Whatever it was, it had a hold on her that he couldn’t seem to break through, no matter how much he tried.

Macrath picked up her hand and brought it to his lips. “Ceana, come back to me,” he murmured, kissing each knuckle until she yanked her hand away to do battle again.

“Macrath…” she croaked, but still did not wake.

He grabbed hold of her again. Her fingers tightened around his, as though she were holding on for her life.

Not wanting to let go, he held her as the dream tightened its grasp. Unable to shake her from it, he leapt from the bed to grab the candelabrum from their dining table. He lit a single candle, illuminating their room in a dim golden light.

His breath puffed in the cold air. Their hearth was empty, their fire long since fizzling out. His gaze was drawn back to his wife when she cried out again. The bed looked as though two people had done battle. Which, judging from the way his wife jerked about, she was. Their coverlet was half-tossed off the bed and her pillow was on the floor.

The castle was silent. He guessed it was just after midnight.

Macrath set the candle down on the nightstand. He picked up her pillow and gently put it beneath her head, all the while calling to her.

“Ceana, wake. Come back to me, love.”

She mumbled something incoherent and then gasped, her eyes opening wide, but seeing nothing. He feared that the tragedy they’d endured was taking its toll on her. First, in the woods, she’d disappeared into the dark recesses of her mind and now sleep held her captive. Her eyes closed again, though her mouth remained open in a silent scream.

Macrath was beginning to fear she might not ever come back to him. Perhaps the only way to help her combat her terror was to encourage her to give all she had.

“You can do this,” he said. “Come on, love, fight through it and win.”

Seconds later, she shook so hard the bed convulsed beneath her. Macrath backed away from her flailing hands, but when she sat straight up, he couldn’t help but rush forward and wrap her in his embrace. She sobbed, nuzzling into him. Her body was slick with sweat, but her skin was cold.

“Macrath”—she clutched his shoulders—“you’re here.”

“Of course I’m here,” he soothed. “Shh… Everything will be all right. You are safe now.”

Her entire body shuddered against him.

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