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In the morning, I bolt upright, my arms empty. Dura is gone. And so are the supplies.
Chapter 15
Rognar
One Week Later
Castle Grimble is one of my least favorite places. It was the stronghold of the Cabal that Adalind’s foster family and the dead King Yorian served, a place filled with death, pain and black magic. A place where a dark ritual loosed the demon Grazrath on our plane. He escaped and though we have not yet heard any whispers of what he’s plotting and where he’s holed up, I expect trouble from that quarter soon. So when we finally arrived in Grimblton on our way to High Citadel, after a week of slow travel, I refused to stay in it. There are still secret places there that haven’t been mapped or found out. Places where assassins could lie in wait and I will not chance that with my mate. Instead, we are staying in the best room in Grimblton’s finest inn, the place surrounded by my best warriors. The innkeeper practically fell over in his haste to offer it to us.
Adalind rolled her eyes at me when I brought up the concerns for her safety, but she didn’t fight me on it. Now she sits on the seat in front of the room’s vanity and braids her hair, readying for sleep. She sees me staring at her in the mirror and gives me a little smile that heats my blood. I fuckinglovethose smiles. The secret ones just for me, that tell me she loves me.
Unfortunately, her smile doesn’t last long. She suddenly looks a little pale and says, “Oh no,” before rushing to the chamber pot and upending her dinner. I am not far behind her, supporting her body as her stomach convulses and holding back her hair. After far too long, she stops, spitting the last of her bile into the pot, then sagging against me. I stroke her hair, feeling helpless. A strange feeling for a king, to be sure.
“I do not like that you get so sick,” Imurmur, my hand still soothing her, my claws sheathed.
“Then you and I are in agreement,” Adalind responds wryly. “Do you have some mint that I can chew?”
I pull some out of my belt pouch and hand it to her. I’ve gotten into the habit of carrying it since her sickness has worsened. She takes it in with an expression of gratitude before putting it in her mouth.
“I’m going to send for my mother. You need one of her potions,” I decide, going to move away from Adalind. But she put up a staying hand. She then reaches up and I help her stand, her legs still a little shaky from her bout of sickness.
“Don’t,” she says, before patting my cheek and heading back to the vanity. “She retired early, so I’m sure that she is already asleep. I am feeling fine now. It was a passing sickness. I just need to sleep, I’m sure.”
I growl a little and check our mate bond to make sure that she is really alright. She notices my probing, however, and I feel a wave of answering amusement and frustration in my chest.
“I’m really fine. Your heir just wanted to make himself heard this night.”
I smile at that. “You still think it is a boy?” I get her some water from a pitcher given to us by the innkeeper.
“Of course. Melelea read it in her cards.” She sips and spits into the chamber pot, washes her lips, then drinks.
“My mother isn’talwaysright,” I point out.
“She was aboutus,” Adalind retorts a little sassily. She chews on some more mint and smiles, “Do you still think it is a girl, then?”
I come up behind her, wrapping my arms around her shoulders and resting my head on hers. In turn, Adalind leans back on me, her eyes closing, her expression blissful. She always looks like that when my arms are around her. I feel a wave of gratitude that she is mine, and I feel her own fondness through our bond.
“I merely have hope,” I answer. “I would love to have a little Adalind running about.”
“Charming her Papa and wrapping him around her fingers?” teases my wife.
“But of course, or she wouldn’t be a little you,” I tease back.
Our eyes meet in the mirror, then I lean down and take her lips in a light kiss that I try to deepen, but Adalind pulls back.
“None of that, My King. I was just ill.”
“I don’t care,” I say, going back to kiss her again, but she just laughs and slips from my hold.
“Icare. If you are still feeling up to it, maybe in the morning. My sickness isn’t as strong then.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” I promise, moving to douse the lumen crystals while Adalind climbs under the covers. When the room is dark, the light from outside streams in through the window, the waning moon easily visible. Outside I can see the tops of trees leading into a small forest that abuts Grimblton. I almost wish we were out there, in my tent. I feel the most comfortable in the wild. But when one’s wife is pregnant and the nights are getting cold, inside it is.
As I work to undo my belt, the hair on the back of my neck prickles. Alarmed, I look up and out the window again. I get the feeling that someone is watching us. My every muscle tenses, and I stride to the casement, picking up my ax from its place against the wall as I go.
“Rognar?” Adalind asks, sitting up in the bed. “What’s wrong?”
I don’t answer for a moment, scanning out the wavy glass, but all I see are the trees, the sparse gold and orange foliage looking silver in the moonlight. No one would be able to hide from me in the branches, not with so little greenery left on the trees. I open the glass panes to get a better look and scan for scents, letting in the cold night air, but all I smell is forest and orc. I look down and see two orc warriors on the ground under our windows, standing at attention, and relax. Whatever I thought was there is gone now. Maybe just an owl or some other bird in the trees. Even I can admit that I’ve been a little on edge since we found out Adalind isexpecting and that we needed to make this trip to Adrik. Shaking my head, I close the window again, flicking the latch closed and drawing the curtains. Just in case there is some spy lingering.
