Closing my eyes, I lean back against the wall and think about the distress of Owen’s people. It breaks my heart every moment that it goes on, and it’s even more frustrating that I managed to manifest some power that helped, only to be utterly useless after that.
I read over the spell again, a new sense of determination setting in.
If the only way forward is to bind us, then so be it. The marriage ritual affected me straight through to my heart, even if I didn’t want to admit it. But now, it’s time to join our souls, too.
My mouth is dry. I try to swallow, but it gets caught in my throat. I shuffle over to the bed and reach over to pull a hair from Owen’s head. He stirs a little, but doesn’t wake. I pull out one of mine, too, and twist them together.
I read through the words of the spell, not understanding all of it, but trying to repeat the words with as much feeling as possible. The air around me feels heavy, getting worse as I chant. It scares me, but I keep going, my soft whispers filling the room as the pressure rises.
The air gets so thick, my ears start to ring, and it’s hard to draw a breath. Just when I think I’ll have to stop, there is a strange snap, like an electric charge, and the twisted hairs between my fingers flare as if they’ve been singed. I jump, expecting to be burned, but there’s no flame, just a faint hint of smoke.
Is that it?
I look around the room, wondering if there would be a change I can actually see. Everything looks normal, and Owen is sleeping as peacefully as before.
I don’t feel any different. Maybe it needs time to work?
Owen mutters in his sleep and rolls over, his hand reaching for me. I pack up the book and torn pages, putting them underneath the dresser so Owen won’t see them when he wakes up.
I really don’t know how he’d feel about this. I could have waited for him to wake up, but I just felt like it was too important to wait another moment. If it helps the pack, he’ll be fine with it.
But what if it doesn’t?
I push that thought away, slipping into bed beside him and letting him fold his arms around me. I’m tired from the spell, and it’s easy to let the steady beat of his heart and slow rush of his breath soothe me into sleep.
I do feel more connected to him. Maybe we’ll wake up tomorrow morning, and everything will be fine…
Chapter 21 - Owen
The far-off buzzing is faint but insistent. I try to shut it out, but it invades my mind and refuses to let me go back to sleep.
Not this again. Safe and warm in Trina’s arms, and I have to get up and leave her. Fuck.
Stifling a soft groan, I gently unwrap Trina’s arms from my body and tuck her back in as I get up. I fumble around on the floor for my phone, finding it still in the pocket of my dress pants.
I don’t even remember taking off my damn pants. What a wild night.
Staggering down the hallway, I feel wrecked, as if I spent the night drinking heavily. I think back over the evening, pretty sure that all I had was one glass of champagne.
It must have been the talk I had with Trina. Hearing something like that is enough to fuck with anyone’s head.
As I get to the kitchen, I finally manage to extract my phone from my pants pocket. When I see the screen, my heart leaps up into my throat and freezes there, my entire body going cold from shock.
What the fuck?
I can’t believe what I’m seeing, so I race down the hallway, throwing on some clothes as I bolt out the back door. I tear through the woods, cursing my body for being slow and sluggish as I try to cover the distance as fast as possible.
What’s wrong with me? I feel worse than I did yesterday!
Even though my chest heaves, every breath full of fire, and my muscles harden into steel lumps, I keep pushing myself until I get to the infirmary. Staggering towards the doors, I slump forward, only just barely managing to catch myself by grabbing my knees.
Head down, I pant like a spent racehorse, praying for the horrible pain in my chest to ease. Blood pounds into my temples, blurring my vision and making me nauseous.
Is this how unfit people feel when they run? It sucks.
“Owen?” a voice cries.
I grab the doorframe and struggle to pull myself upright. “Laura,” I reply, seeing one of our nurses coming towards me. “What’s… happening?” I gasp.
