Chapter Eighty-one

Chapter Eighty-one
Chapter 81

Lia’s POV

The morning light streamed across the chamber, spilling over the furs and throwing a warm glow on the floor. It should have felt peaceful. The kind of light that promised new beginnings, or at least a quiet reprieve from the constant weight of fear and survival.

But I did not feel peace.

I woke with Edgar’s arms around me, his breath steady against the side of my neck. On the surface, nothing seemed wrong. His chest rose and fell evenly, his hold on me was firm but tender, his warmth cocooned me in a way I had come to depend on. Yet beneath it, I sensed something fractured.

He had been quieter than usual last night. Not just tired, not just worn from the lingering weakness of the curse, but withdrawn. Closed. His silences had a different shape, and this one carried edges sharp enough to cut.

I lay still, watching him sleep, tracing the lines of his face. Even at rest, shadows clung to him. His brow furrowed now and again, as though dreams chased him, as though his mind could not grant him mercy even in sleep.

A chill rippled through me. I brushed my fingers lightly across his jaw, but he didn’t stir.

The goddess knew we had faced enough trials already. So what else weighed him down now?

When I rose, I moved quietly, tucking the furs around him so the draft would not wake him. My feet padded softly across the floor as I poured water into the basin. I tried to ground myself in the routine, washing, dressing, braiding my hair, but the unease gnawed at me, refusing to be silenced.

By the time I left the chamber, Edgar was still asleep.

The corridors of the fortress bustled with life. Guards shifted posts, servants carried baskets, the smell of bread drifted faintly from the kitchens. It was all ordinary, yet I found myself scanning every corner as if something might leap from the shadows. Perhaps it was paranoia. Or perhaps it was instinct.

I found Elena near the training yard, her arms crossed, eyes narrowed as she barked instructions at two younger warriors. She spotted me immediately, her sharp gaze softening just slightly.

“You’re out early,” she remarked.

“Elena,” I greeted, pulling my cloak tighter. “Has Edgar seemed different to you?”

She tilted her head, studying me. “Define different.”

“Quieter. Distant.” I hesitated, unsure how much to admit. “Like something’s disturbing him that he won’t speak of.”

Elena’s mouth pressed into a thin line. She didn’t answer right away, which only confirmed my suspicions. She had noticed too.

Finally, she sighed. “He left the fortress yesterday at dawn. Alone.”

My breath caught. “He didn’t tell me.”

“No. He didn’t tell anyone.” Her tone carried disapproval. “I tracked his movements, but he came back before noon. Shaken, though he tried to hide it.”

A cold weight sank into my stomach. Edgar never disappeared without a word. Not unless something significant had driven him to it.

“What could he be hiding?” I asked, more to myself than to Elena.

Her eyes narrowed. “That is the question, isn’t it?”

I nodded faintly, pressing a hand against my chest where my heart pounded. Whatever it was, it wasn’t small. It wasn’t something he could carry silently without it eventually breaking him.

I left Elena with that thought heavy in my mind.

The day passed in fragments, small duties, brief conversations with pack members, endless glances toward the hallways hoping Edgar would appear. When he finally did, it was during the midday meal. He walked into the dining hall with his usual steady stride, his expression neutral, almost unreadable. But I saw the flicker in his eyes, the way they scanned the room as though expecting danger at every turn.

He sat beside me, his hand brushing mine in a familiar gesture, but his smile was forced. I returned it, though my chest ached with questions.

All through the meal, I studied him. He spoke little, offered short answers when addressed, and ate as though it was duty more than appetite. To anyone else, it might have seemed normal enough. To me, it was a performance, and not a very convincing one.

Afterward, when we walked back to our chambers, I tried to draw him out.

“You’ve been restless,” I said softly, keeping my tone careful, non-confrontational. “Even when you’re with me, your mind is far away.”

He paused mid-step, then shook his head. “I’m just tired.”

The lie stung. I knew it was a lie. But I also knew pressing too hard would only make him retreat further. So I bit back the urge to demand the truth, to shake it out of him if I had to.

Instead, I nodded, letting it slide, for now.

That night, I lay awake long after Edgar’s breathing had steadied beside me. My hand rested on my stomach, a habit I had formed without meaning to. Though I had not yet spoken it aloud, I felt certain new life stirred within me. A fragile, precious spark.

I thought of the child, of what kind of world they would be born into. And I thought of Edgar, carrying a burden he refused to share. If he crumbled under its weight, what then?

Resolve hardened in me.

If he would not speak, I would find out on my own.

Over the next days, I watched more closely. Each time Edgar left the chambers, I noted where he went, who he spoke with, how long he lingered. I saw the tension in his shoulders when elders approached, the flicker in his eyes when the name Connor was whispered in passing. He never acknowledged it, but I noticed.

And slowly, a pattern began to emerge.

He was hiding something tied to Connor. I could feel it in my bones.

The realization chilled me to the core. Connor, the shadow that haunted us all, the enemy who had slipped too close too many times. If Edgar was concealing some encounter, some truth connected to him, it was more dangerous than I wanted to admit.

One evening, after Edgar had retired early, I lingered by the fire alone. Elena found me there, her presence quiet but commanding.

“You’ve seen it too,” she said.

I nodded, staring into the flames. “He’s carrying something. And I think it’s about Connor.”

Elena didn’t deny it. She only pressed her lips together, her jaw tightening. “Then we must be ready. Secrets have a way of breaking open at the worst possible moment.”

I shivered, pulling my cloak tighter around me.

As the fire crackled, I made a silent vow.

If Edgar would not share his burden, then I would uncover it myself. For him. For our child. For the pack.

Because silence was as deadly as any blade Connor might wield.