Sen

  Consciousness came back to her in pieces.

  First, it was the cold. The cool stone floor pressed against her cheek, pulling her from the dark of her subconscious. Something had happened. Then the dark consumed her once more.

  Next came the pain. It bloomed in her mind so suddenly she tried to claw her way back to the darkness. Senna stirred with a small, broken sound. The pain throbbed, deep and penetrating, in the back of her head. It pulsed with every beat of her heart. She squeezed her eyes shut, not ready to open them and face whatever reality this pain existed in.

  Something warm and wet dragged across her face. She tried to blink.

  She flinched as a weight pressed closer. Then she relaxed as foggy awareness returned. Grady. His tongue swept her cheek again, more insistently now, his whine vibrating against her jaw. She breathed him in and clung to the wet-dog smell. It was proof she was still alive.

  “Grady,” she murmured, the word barely forming.

  Her eyes fluttered open. It was very dark but she could make out the shape of the hound next to her. He stood at her stirring, hovering over her. His tail was stiff, eyes bright with worry.

  Then someone else leaned into her sight.

  Her heart leapt as the face blurred and refocused, head still throbbing as she squinted in disbelief.

  Her mother’s face hovered above her, pale and soft, just as Senna remembered. Loose dark hair framed gentle cheeks. Familiar eyes shone with concern.

  An apparition. Surely from the injury. She blinked harder, trying to clear her mind, but her mother stayed.

  “Mama,” Senna breathed, tears prickling the corners of her eyes.

  Grady growled.

  Low and deep. Nothing like his whimpering before. His body shifted, placing himself squarely between Senna and the face above her, hackles lifting. He growled again and Senna tried to lift her hand to calm him but she couldn’t.

  The woman didn’t retreat. She only looked down at Senna, mouth parting as if to speak, and then the face wavered, like a reflection disturbed.

  The softness drained away. The bones beneath the skin shifted subtly, settling into sharper lines. The hair pulled back, shortening. The eyes stayed kind, but they were no longer her mother’s. Dark stubble covered the now too angular jaw.

  Harlin’s face resolved fully into view.

  “Easy,” he said quietly, hands raised as he glanced between Senna and Grady. His voice was gentle, threaded with worry. “It’s just me.”

  Grady snarled, lips peeling back from his teeth.

  “I know,” Harlin murmured. “I know, boy. I’m not coming closer.”

  True to his word, he stayed where he was, on the bottom step. Senna dimly registered that the door behind him stood open now, light spilling down the stairs. Looking at the light made her head throb in earnest and she groaned, rolling her face away. Grady growled again. His body was a rigid line of tension, blocking her, but he hadn’t attacked.

  “He wouldn’t let anyone else past the door,” Harlin went on softly. “Nearly took Father’s hand off. I tried and he let me come here but snapped at me when I tried to step down.”

  Senna swallowed. The motion sent a spike of pain through her skull, and she hissed, squeezing her eyes shut tighter.

  “Senna,” Harlin said, alarm sharpening his tone. “Don’t move. Gods, there’s so much blood.”

  She forced her eyes open again. “They locked me in a cellar,” she said hoarsely, voice raspy and breaking.

  Harlin flinched. “I didn’t know he was going to-” He stopped, jaw tightening, hesitating. He didn’t want to upset her. “They sent for Rydan. Grady won’t let anyone touch you, and… you need help.”

  A weak laugh came out before she could stop it. “Help?” she echoed. “From people who throw me down stairs and left me to rot?”

  Grady growled again, as if in agreement.

  Harlin’s shoulders sagged. “I know you don’t trust us,” he said. “But you hit your head hard. You passed out. I didn’t have any say in this Sen. Just like you.”

  Senna turned her face into Grady’s fur, blinking against tears. Her head throbbed relentlessly, nausea curling low in her stomach. Still, she reached up with trembling fingers and pressed them into his neck.

  “It’s all right,” she whispered to him. “Easy. I’m here.”

  The cellar rang faintly with raised voices above, anger sharp and unmistakable. Heavy footsteps took the stairs two at a time.

  Rydan appeared behind Harlin like a storm given corporeal form.

  His face was dark with fury, jaw clenched hard enough that the muscles jumped beneath his beard. He took in the scene in a heartbeat. Senna on the floor, blood drying in her hair, Grady bristling, and let out a sound that was half snarl himself.

  “What did you do?” he demanded.

  Grady snapped at him, a reaction to his anger, teeth flashing.

  Rydan stopped instantly, hands up. “Easy, boy,” he said, voice low but steady. “Easy. It’s me.”

  Grady hesitated, then huffed, though his body stayed rigid.

  “That’s it,” Senna murmured faintly, stroking his fur. “It’s Rydan. He won’t hurt me.” Even as she said the words, doubt crept in.

  Rydan moved slowly, deliberately, only coming as close as Grady allowed. When he knelt, it was at an angle, careful not to loom. His eyes flicked to Senna’s face, assessing, sharp and practiced.

  “Can you see me clearly?” he asked her. “How many fingers?”

  She squinted. “Too many.”

  “That’s not reassuring,” he muttered. He glanced up at Harlin, anger flaring again. “Get me clean water and cloths. Now.”

  Harlin moved at once.

  Rydan worked quickly, efficiently. He cleaned the blood from her hair and pressed a folded cloth to the back of her head, firm but careful. The touch made her wince, but it grounded her too, anchoring her to the present.

  “You’re concussed,” he said quietly. “It’s bad enough that I’m afraid to move you.”

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “No physician?” Senna murmured, bitterness creeping back in. It wasn’t really a question, she knew the answer.

  Rydan’s mouth tightened. “Not unless it turns for the worst,” he agreed. “You know why.”

  She did. Anyone official would ask questions. Questions would lead to answers no one here could afford.

  He straightened and looked at Harlin. “You stay with her,” he said sharply. “You and Grady. If she vomits repeatedly, can’t stay awake, starts slurring, or says she can’t see properly, you come get me immediately. If she loses consciousness again, you run. Understand?”

  Harlin nodded, pale. “I will. I swear.”

  Rydan’s gaze softened just a fraction as he looked back at Senna. “I’ll sort this out,” he said. “Whatever possessed them to think this was acceptable-”

  He broke off, jaw tightening again. “You didn’t deserve this. I don’t care what you said.”

  She searched his face, finding only concern there. No calculation. No knowledge of what they truly intended for her.

  Rydan rose, casting one last warning look at Harlin, then turned and went back up the stairs, his anger following him like thunder.

  The cellar quieted.

  Harlin stayed where he was, keeping his distance. Grady settled beside her again, still tense but calmer now, pressed warm and solid against her side.

  Senna closed her eyes, the pain pulsing, thoughts drifting and snagging on fears. She focused on breathing, trying to push the thoughts away.

  Whatever her family planned for her, she knew this much with aching certainty: Rydan didn’t know.

  And she clung to that knowledge, through her pain. He didn’t know. It meant little to help with her situation but everything all the same.

  ____

  Senna drifted in and out of the dark, clinging to the thin thread of awareness with stubborn determination.

  Don’t sleep. Don’t sleep.

  Each blink lasted a little too long. The cellar tilted and swayed, stone ceiling stretching and churning. Grady’s warmth was an anchor, his steady presence the only thing keeping her from sinking entirely. Somewhere nearby, Harlin murmured to her. Just nonsense questions meant to keep her answering, and she didn’t even know what words were forming on her lips.

  Her head throbbed. The pressure behind her eyes swelled until it felt as though something inside her skull was trying to push its way out.

  “Senna.” Rydan’s voice cut through the haze, sharp with urgency.

  She forced her eyes open. He was there again, crouched close, face grim. Before she could protest, strong arms slid beneath her knees and shoulders.

  “Sorry,” he muttered. “I can’t leave you down here.”

  The movement sent a wave of nausea crashing through her, but she clutched at his shirt, breath hitching. The cellar spun wildly as he lifted her, Grady pacing tight circles around them, hackles raised.

  “It’s all right,” Rydan told the hound firmly. “You’re coming too.”

  The humid night air hit her as he carried her out of the house. The heat was returning after the storm. She buried her face against his shoulder, the faint smell of hay and wool grounding her as the stars wheeled overhead. She was dimly aware of passing the fields, the familiar path to Rydan’s house, but the world kept slipping.

  She hung limply in his arms as he laid her on his bed.

  The mattress dipped beneath her, blessedly soft. Clean sheets brushed her skin. Grady leapt up beside her at once, curling along her back, a solid, living barrier between her and everything else.

  Rydan tugged the blanket up over her shoulders. “Sleep,” he said quietly. “I’ll be here.”

  She believed him.

  The dark took her gently this time.

  —

  When Senna woke, she knew that something had shifted. It took a moment for her to orient herself and remember where she was and why. When she did, she listened. The house, one as familiar to her as her own, was silent. Grady wasn’t by her side though his fur coated thick blanket that covered her, indicating he hadn’t left her much.

  Rydan wasn’t there either but she knew he kept his promise. A chair sat in the corner with a crumpled, thin blanket thrown haphazardly over the arm. His jacket hung on the back. He’d stayed with her.

  But where was he now?

  The pain in her head had dulled to a distant ache. Her thoughts, though slow, no longer slid away from her grasp. Sunlight filtered warm and pale through the window. Time had passed. But how long? Hours at least. Probably days from how much better she felt.

  She pushed herself upright, listening when footsteps downstairs caught her attention. They were rushing, hitting the stairs at a run. She blinked as the door flew open, Grady leading the charge. He jumped on the bed, licking her face, tail wagging. Despite everything, she laughed and patted his head.

  Rydan stood near the foot of the bed, arms crossed tight over his chest. He’d followed Grady in. His jaw was set hard, lips pressed into a thin line. He wasn’t looking at her, he was staring at the wall above her head as if it had personally wronged him. Then he looked down, almost reluctantly, and met her gaze.

  He knew.

  The realization landed with a strange mix of dread and relief.

  “They told you,” she said quietly.

  The muscles in his jaw and neck tensed as he swallowed. “Yes.”

  The word was clipped, sharp around the edges. He dragged a hand through his hair, pacing once before stopping again. “They told me everything. Their plan. What they intended to do to you.”

  Grady growled low.

  Rydan’s mouth twisted. “I won’t do it,” he said, fierce and immediate. “I don’t care what they think. I don’t care about their laws or their desperation. I will not touch you. I will not marry you. I will not-” His voice broke, and he looked away. “Gods help me, I hate them for even thinking it.”

  Senna’s eyes burned. Tears spilled over before she could stop them.

  “You chose me,” she whispered.

  He looked back at her then, and the raw loyalty in his eyes undid her completely.

  “Of course I did,” he said. “There was never a choice to be made. The most insane part is that they really thought I’d just quietly go along.”

  She swallowed. “What choice do we have?”

  Rydan opened his mouth. Closed it.

  His silence was answer enough. He didn’t know.

  The door slammed open again with a crack like thunder.

  Rydan’s father, her uncle, stormed into the room, face red with fury, eyes wild. “Well, well, well,” he said, glaring down at Senna. “About time you’ve woken.”

  “She’s hurt,” Rydan snapped back, stepping between him and the bed. “She needs rest.”

  “She needs to be returned,” his father shouted. “You will not shame us like this. You will not-”

  Rydan shoved him.

  The movement was sudden, violent. His father stumbled back, slamming into the table, knocking it over with a crash. Grady growled, teeth bared, thick saliva dripping. He jumped down from the bed, positioning himself between the men and Senna.

  “Get out,” Rydan snarled. “Now.”

  “You think you can avoid this?” his father bellowed, gesturing toward Senna. “You don’t know the first thing about sacrificing for this family. You don’t know what danger she puts us in. This has been a long time coming. She has to go home until we can take care of things like we planned. Her father is willing to take the risk while she heals, keeping her under his roof. She has to go. Now.”

  “What’s the point?” Rydan yelled, throwing his arms up in the air. “You want her to share my bed anyway. You should be thrilled she’s there now.”

  Then Rydan lunged and they collided again. Grady barked, dipping his body low to be ready to catch them with his teeth if they came closer.

  Senna didn’t think. She moved.

  Her head protested, a sharp spike of pain, but it didn’t slow her. She grabbed her boots, yanked them on, and ran. The door, the hall, she fled barefoot into the heat, lungs burning.

  Grady followed, then hesitated.

  “Stay,” she said breathlessly, turning back. Rydan’s voice echoed from the house, strained and furious. “Stay with him. Protect him.”

  Grady whined, torn, pacing in tight circles.

  She dropped to her knees, gripping his face in both hands. “You understand,” she whispered fiercely. “I know you do. You always have.”

  His eyes searched hers, bright and intelligent and aching with devotion.

  “You cannot come with me,” she said and hugged his neck tight for a moment. “Rydan needs you here. You have to keep him safe for me. It’s important.”

  Grady’s eyes bore into hers like they always did, human-like and understanding.

  Slowly, reluctantly, he turned back toward the house where the sounds of yelling still echoed from upstairs. She didn’t have much time.

  With one last look at Grady she stood and ran again, not stopping until the trees closed around her, branches clawing at her clothes. At the treeline, she paused, chest heaving, and looked back.

  Grady stood at the edge of the light, watching her. He decided to follow her to the forest. To see her off. As she looked back at him she knew he understood. She wasn’t coming back.

  For a long moment, they simply held each other’s gaze.

  She smiled through tears.

  Then Grady turned and ran back toward Rydan.

  And Senna vanished into the dark.