Page 77 of Ravenrose

“Milk and honey, eh?” His arched brow saying everything he’s not.

I sigh irritably, refusing to let him get to me.

“And cinnamon,” I grumble with a roll of my eyes. “Everyone always forgets the cinnamon.”

Chapter 36

ROWAN

Pain.

Gods, my body aches.

I’m not sleeping well. I fall asleep easily, sure, I’m exhausted—my body has all but officially hit its max for outdoor adventure time. But spending my nights curled up on the cold ground with no blanket or shelter…

My battle with my own exhaustion threatens to top the battle of wills I’m waging with Ayer. The fatigue seeps deep into my bones, leaching out every last bit of energy I have left to give.

Nightmares plague what little sleep I do get, unceremoniously tossing me out of dreamland the second it becomes apparent I might actually be getting any rest.

There’s a dull pounding in my head that only grows worse the longer the day wears on, either from the interrupted sleep—thanks to the nightmares—or the total lack of sleep altogether. The more tired I am, the more likely it is that nightmares will come. It’s likely only to get worse the longer my sleep remains inconsistent.

Even now, during the day, I can feel them.

Lurking.

Waiting.

Never really far off. It lurks in my mind, a monster poised to attack whenever the moment is right.

The nightmares aren’t new. They have plagued me for just about as long as I can remember, but now they have been given new fodder. New horrific memories to twist and force on replay. The night’s shadows seep into my dreams, dragging me further into darkness.

I hear the screams of dying fae—the sounds of the execution at my back when they dragged me from the great hall. And then it’s the Raven. I let out a scream as I watch him turn the castle walls to shadow, seeing the bodies fall—the demon’s shadows swallowing them whole.

I see my mother.

I’m under the bed again, just a child, my little arm outstretched as if—as if I can save her. Silent sobs wrack through me as I watch in horrified helplessness that demon’s shadows consume her.

Gone.

Gone forever.

No!

My eyes fly open, heart pounding as I stare at the darkness all around me. I sigh, shifting my eyes upward toward the lightening sky. It’s nearly dawn, anyway. I push myself to sitting, leaning my back against the tree nearby, giving up on any further attempts to sleep tonight. Scanning the quiet clearing, I find Ayer has again replaced Wyatt on watch.

He’s sitting on a flattened boulder across the clearing where we’d made camp for the night. Ayer has his body angled toward the woods, his attention on the little wood carving he’s been crafting ever since we left Rosecliff. And even though he never looks my way, I know he’s watching me.

He hasn’t spoken to me.

Not a word.

Not since yesterday, when we left the village.

Ayer shifts, reaching down to grab the full satchel of water at his feet, then pulls out the stopper and takes a long drink.

My throat tightens, and I can’t help but stare glumly at the leather skin in his hands. My own mouth turns to cotton at the mere thought of water.

Just as Ayer hasn’t spoken to me, he also hasn’t given me any food, nor a drop of water.