The haze between waking and dreaming was a wondrous, warm, glowing place. Somewhere that you could happily be, everything was as it should be, and worries did not exist. Taking too deep a breath could bring you out of the experience too soon, yet trying to hold onto that warm, safe place, could in fact have the opposite effect and have you floating to the surface quicker than you should have naturally. Both Rohesia and Artair had the same experience, at the same moment, only in different sleeping places, in different rooms, in different houses contained in the same city. Their experiences upon waking were completely different but leading to the same place…not that either could know at that precise moment.
Gasping as he jolted out of the warm cocoon of his half waked state. He glared up at Kendrick, as he sauntered away as if he had done nothing at all. The fact he was now laying painfully on his back, having landed once more on his bruised arse, had him practically growling in anger, his heated gaze trying to burn through Kendrick’s back. But by the time he had worked up an irritated anger, enough to possibly do damage from afar, Kendrick was already out of his line of sight and out of the room completely. Sighing heavily, and rubbing his hands vigorously over his face, his stubble scrapping at his palms, and catching against his callouses.
Blowing out a gust of air, he stood on a slight groan, and rubbed at his tail bone, as he tried to breathe through the pain. He already had a bruise from his fall the day before, and he would make sure Kendrick paid for this by the time the sun set this evening. Shaking his head as if to clear it, he stood before the wash stand and stared down at the water he knew would most likely freeze his fingers. Well, it was always a good way to make sure he was awake at least. Throwing the cool water over his face, his breathing swallowed as he tried to grow accustomed to the feeling, and squeezed his eyes shut, before reaching blindly for the cloth beside the bowl to wipe his dripping face.
Most definitely awake, and away from the wonderful haze he had found himself in minutes before. He took up his blade, and went about trying to rid himself of his scruff of beard while trying not to nick himself in the process. Which was harder than normal with the freezing water making his fingers tremble, and the blade in turn trembled against his flesh. The sharp sting told him that he had sliced through, and the small trickle of warmth let him know that blood was flowing in a steady flow from the wound, and he cursed himself wildly for his lack of control.
It was a while before he was presentable enough to venture below once more. Not that he cared what state Kendrick saw him like, but he heard voices below and he knew that whatever company was below needed to be treated well, as he hoped they were here to speed up the bloody English so he could concentrate on the one English woman he actually had an interest in, and possibly whisk her away in the Highland tradition, and steal his bride away…he paused just before taking the first wooden step. Blinking slowly as he stared at the wall ahead of him.
YOU ARE READING
Highland Bear (Book 4)Historical Fiction
The Druids were a hunted people long ago...they made a pact to scatter their children throughout time to keep them safe from the massacre to come. These children became lost, both in time and in the memories of people. At first they were looked for...