Chapter 66: Everly

Chapter

Sixty-Six

EVERLY

I climb into bed next to Cenric and try to process everything that happened today, but the images keep flashing through my mind—the battle, the wounded, the dead.

The bed creaks as I shift enough to see Cenric. He lies on his back, eyes fixed on the tent's ceiling. The torchlight casts shadows across his face, highlighting the tightness in his jaw and the deep groove on his brow.

My heart aches for him. I want to reach out, to comfort him, but I'm not sure how. Not when he seems so far away.

I bite my lip, fighting back tears. I've never seen him like this before, so withdrawn, so...broken.

My mind drifts back to earlier, to the funeral pyres. I remember standing there, watching as they laid Liam's body on the pyre. His face had been so peaceful, as if he were merely sleeping, but I knew better.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the memory, but it's no use. Liam's laugh echoes in my ears—that booming, infectious sound I'll never hear again.

I liked Liam. He'd always been kind to me, always had a joke or a smile ready. And now he's gone.

I shift closer to Cenric and lay my head on his chest. For a moment, he remains still, then his arm wraps around me. I close my eyes and breathe in his scent.

The silence between us stretches on, but it's not uncomfortable. There's a peacefulness to it, a shared understanding that words aren't necessary right now. We both need this quiet moment to process, to heal.

Cenric's fingers find their way into my hair, gently combing through the curls. I savor the feeling of his fingers in my hair, the way they lightly massage my scalp. It's a simple gesture, but it speaks volumes. In it, I feel his care, his affection, his need for this connection.

Cenric's other hand finds mine and curls around my fingers. I squeeze gently, hoping the action conveys all the things I can't put into words—my sympathy, my support, my love.