“Maybe you should get some sleep? I know you didn’t get much last night.” Micha pursed his lips into a sheepish frown. “I heard you tossing and turning. It sounded like one hell of a nightmare.”
A prickling heat crept over Loren’s cheeks. “It’s n-nothing,” she stammered, turning to face the sink.
“You want to talk about it?” Micha asked. “I get bad dreams sometimes, myself.”
Again, it was a tempting offer—only there was nothing to talk about. The nightmare had been the same one plaguing her since she first woke up in McGoven’s house. It was hard to describe—endless darkness and a feeling of ruthless pursuit, though she never saw the culprit’s face.
Her mind was probably just processing the residual shock of her father’s death. That night was still hazy. Supposedly, he’d been killed by debtors, but…
Loren couldn’t shake a shadowy whisper at the back of her mind that warned the explanation was a big fat lie.
“Hey! Earth to Loren.” She glanced over to find Micha jerking his head toward the stairs. “I mean it. Go sleep. You’ve been up all morning. I heard you get up well before dawn. You must be exhausted. A nap won’t kill you. I’ll keep watch. And if you were worried about the…uh, mess from the other night, I took care of it while you were cleaning in here.” His sheepish grin conveyed a sense of pride despite the grisly topic.
“Thanks.” Loren took a step and hesitated. “I really should do the dishes…” Or maybe the chore was just another excuse to stay awake. At least until McGoven came back. Before she could finish the statement, a yawn ripped from her chest, and she found herself stumbling into the foyer anyway.
Rather than head up to that big empty bed,she entered the living room. She collapsed onto the armchair across from the couch—which repulsed her, even cleaned of Naomi’s blood. As her eyes drifted shut, a part of her stubbornly remained alert.
Waiting for him to return.
* * *
She was running. Her chest heaved as if her heart might explode from it, but she couldn’t stop. Not ever.
He was coming, and there would be no escape…
The sensation of the world shifting beneath her jolted Loren awake, but one realization kept any fear at bay. Heat. Pleasant warmth engulfed her, radiating from the body of someone strong enough to hold her suspended in their arms. Those two details alone narrowed down the potential list of suspects, not that she had the energy to be alarmed.
“You two can get some sleep,” someone called. “I’ll keep watch.” The chirpy voice sounded far enough away that she knew Micha couldn’t be the owner of the heartbeat surging beneath her cheek. Intrigued, Loren stirred sleepily, peeling one eye open.
She couldn’t see much—just a corner of the living room drenched in shadow.
“It will only be for an hour or so,” a man replied in a voice rumbling through her skin. “Then, I’ll go out again.”
“Do you really think they’ll come back?”
“Don’t know. Eislanders are unpredictable. If they do return, I’ll be ready.”
“Me too! I’ll shout if I see anything,”
“Fine,” the speaker holding her replied. “But...I don’t really have to threaten that if you go running off to the pack, it will be the last thing you ever do, do I?”
“Nope!” Loren could picture Micha emphatically shaking his head. “But murderous insinuation noted, regardless.”
McGoven didn’t reply—because who else’s voice could affect her so viscerally? Instead, he just made a sound of agreement in the back of his throat. Then, heavy footsteps echoed in tandem as she turned—or rather, the personholdingher turned—and headed for the stairs.
It seemed to take forever for her eyes to adjust to the faint, gray daylight creeping in through the windows.She could smell musk, sweat, and pine—a scent that seemed more familiar than her own these days.
Finally, the person holding her set her down, so gently that she barely felt the impact of her body hitting a familiar mattress. With a sigh, they dragged the top sheet over her, tucking it in, and Loren went still, squeezing her eyes shut. If the past was any indicator, he would leave next, probably to go camp out on the couch.
Suddenly, the mattress squealed beneath the weight of a heavier, muscular body that settled in, right beside her. Before she could adjust, an arm went around her waist, dragging her closer. While her heart raced in alarm, the halfhearted embrace seemed more comforting than anything else. The same way a dog might curl up against another for warmth.
Warily, she opened her eyes again, twisting around to face him directly.
He wasn’t asleep.Caught,was the expression that flickered through those gray eyes.
“You’re awake.” He sounded so exhausted she had to resist the urge to yawn just looking at him. “Good. It’s about time we talked.”
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