Kael
The reports in front of me had stopped making sense an hour ago.
I sat in my study, the darkness outside slowly giving way to the gray light of pre-dawn, trying to focus on border patrol schedules and supply requisitions.
Trying to keep my mind occupied with something other than the steady sound of breathing coming from the small room down the corridor.
Even through stone walls, I could hear it. Could track the rhythm of it, know when she shifted in her sleep, know when the nightmares made her breathing quicken.
It was getting worse. This awareness of her. This inability to ignore her presence even when she wasn't in the room.
I set down the report I'd been pretending to read and reached for the glass of whiskey I'd poured hours ago. It had gone warm, useless, but I drank it anyway.
The beast paced beneath my skin, restless and hungry despite feeding yesterday. Nothing satisfied it anymore. Not blood, not violence, nothing.
