Remember.
Trystan sighed. The vision in his dream held a purpose, and it wasn’t going to release him until he filled it.
Taking care not to jostle Marc, Trystan climbed out of bed. He dressed quickly and quietly in the dimly lit room. Grabbing his bow and quiver, he went to the door and cast a quick glance over his shoulder at Marc. They’d barely spoken since he’d returned earlier that night, and Trystan regretted that he would not wake up to him when morning came, but he needed to do this now, before anyone had a chance to stop him.
***
Marc rolled to his side, reaching for Trystan. Finding the bed beside him empty and cold, he pushed himself up to sit. Shadows teased his eyes in the darkened room. Embers popped. The shutters thumped, creaking from the wind outside.
Something wasn’t right.
He stumbled out of bed and pulled on his breeches and boots. Marc grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head as he left the bedroom in search of Trystan.
The fire in the main room blazed. Noah slept in his chair near the hearth, snoring loudly. The cottage seemed otherwise empty.
“Trystan?” Marc kept his voice low.
Marc went to the door and pulled it open. A light rain fell, slanting in the wind. His eyes searched the surrounding darkness. Nothing.
“He isn’t here.”
Marc’s heart jumped at the voice behind him. “Emrys,” he breathed. “Gods’ blood, you startled me.”
“My apologies, Your Grace.”
“Where would he have gone?” Marc closed the door and followed Emrys as he moved toward the warmth of the fire. “Could he have been taken again?”
“I don’t know. I heard some noise a short while ago, but assumed it was the storm.”
“I heard nothing. When I awoke, he was gone.”
Emrys sighed. “Trystan is not reckless, but that dream he’s spoken of…”
“What about it?”
“That dream is a memory, Marc.” Emrys’ mouth twisted, his lips scrunched. He let out a soft breath. “I wanted you both together when I told you, but I let it slip earlier today when he mentioned it again. Since your kiss the other day, his dreams have been more intense. His mind is remembering. His spirit is awakening.”
Marc knit his brow. “He is the lost heir, isn’t he?”
Emrys’ smile was hesitant. “How did you figure it out?”
“I had a theory come to mind during a discussion with my father. You’ve just confirmed it.”
“You believe me?”
“My mother advised me to trust you, no matter what deceptions you’d created.”
“I will explain to you both as soon as he’s safe.” Emrys gave him a stern look. “Trystan is in danger. You need to find him, Marc. If he encounters Grønn Riddari or another enemy from his past without you, he could very well die.”
A pain struck his heart. They hadn’t even bonded yet and already, the fear of losing Trystan gutted him. The harsh emptiness that would consume Marc for the rest of his life if he lost him burned in his chest, strengthening his resolve.
“I won’t let that happen.”
Marc grabbed a candle and lit it using the fire burning in the hearth. He returned to Trystan’s bedchamber and gathered his sword and knife. Emrys appeared in the doorway.
“You may want to wear this.”
Marc glanced toward him. Emrys held in his hand a leather chest piece. “Armor?”
