Her eyes drifted shut, and she forced them open.
The woman sat before her, and Mina thought . . . she thought . . .
What did she think?
“Sleep well, my pet.”
And then slumber took her.
CHAPTER 18
There was no fear as the darkness consumed Mina—only the peace that accompanied being pulled into a state of unconsciousness. But then, something changed.
The cries of an infant pierced the stillness. Mina tried to open her eyes, tried to speak, to move, but she could do nothing to go to the child. The distressed cries grew, paired with the screams of a woman, begging, pleading. The fierce bark of wolves weaved their way into the cacophony.
The sounds faded slowly, leaving silence in its wake. Even as the memory of those sounds slipped away, the fear and distress lingered in Mina. Emotions that she could not put into words as she lingered in this place between sleep and wake.
When she finally woke, unsure of whether hours or days or weeks had passed, she peeled her eyes open, finding herself lying on her side. Daylight spilled in from behind her as she took in the familiar furniture of her chambers in the castle, her mind feeling as though she were wading through sand. She frowned, trying to make sense of it all—what happened? How had shegotten back here? But then she sensed the presence of someone in the room with her.
She stilled, the remnants of her fear mingling with confusion and fatigue. She shut her eyes again, her heart racing as she held her breath, her mind returning to the screams and cries she’d heard in slumber. She tried to push beyond that, back to her last waking memory, but a haze clung to her mind, blurring the edges.
The mattress dipped next to her and a cool cloth pressed to her forehead, her cheeks. Mina wondered if it was safe to reveal she was awake—this was likely Sofia tending to her, but something in her stomach tightened, fear of what might be revealed to her upon waking.
She opened her eyes, turning slowly to find the Count sitting next to her on the bed. His blue eyes were softer than she’d ever seen them, true care in his gaze. And then a memory floated back to her—those eyes in the darkness, fear flashing through them as he told her to . . . to what?
“You’re awake,” he said, a soft smile to his lips.
Stay hidden. His voice floated back like glimpses of a dream, her mind struggling to grasp onto the memory. But it hadn’t been a dream.
Mina dragged herself into a seated position, staring up at him. “What happened?” she asked. Her voice was dry and raspy, and he reached over to the nightstand, bringing a glass of water for her to sip. The water was cool going down her throat, andshe suddenly felt as though she’d gone days in the desert without hydration, draining the cup dry.
As he set the glass on the nightstand, she took the opportunity to watch him, to take in his features in the light of day. Was this the first she’d seen of her husband aside from in the moonlight or the firelight? And then an image of the night prior appeared in her mind’s eye—them before the fire. Her cheeks heated.
His eyes found hers, and she was silent, the unanswered question still lingering between them.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
She felt a pang of frustration at his question—as if she’d never spoken.
“I’m fine,” she said, though her head was still heavy, her mind still clouded. “But you—what happened to you? You left me.” It wasn’t until she spoke the words that she saw the memory. He’d locked her into a room—a chamber somewhere in the castle, but not her own. She’d been so afraid, the feeling returning to her now even in the light of day.
His brows furrowed in mild confusion, his head tilting slightly. “I left you?”
She swallowed, pushing past her discomfort. How could he not know what she spoke of? She remembered his hand in hers as he pulled her down the shadowed corridors, the sound of something, someone, at the door far below. “Someone attacked the castle.”
She found him watching her, his expression one of concern.
“It sounds like you’ve had some vivid dreams, my wife.” He reached out, running his hand down the side of her face, his skin cool to the touch. The gesture should have been soothing, but alarm pulsed through her.
“It wasn’t a dream,” she said. “It was real. You were there. You told me to hide.”
The Count stared at her, his expression unreadable. Did he truly not remember? Had he been injured somehow? Yet as she tried to imagine it, she realized she couldn’t recallwhowould have injured him. There was someone in the castle—a group of people. But when she tried to dig deeper, she couldn’t recall anything beyond that.
“You don’t remember?” Her voice sounded weak, even to her own ears.
“Shhh,” he said, placing a hand to her cheek. “Don’t get yourself worked up.”
She frowned at him. “Are you saying it didn’t happen?”
