Chapter 33 When the bond bleeds
Olivia's POV
The first indication that something was wrong struck me as a pressure deep behind my ribs, a dull ache that just didn't go away no matter how much I shifted on the wide canopied bed in my room. I'd been lying awake for hours, staring at the intricately carved ceiling over which the golden patterns of its works played against the dim light of the moon coming in through the tall arched windows. The silk curtains fluttered with the night breeze and brought in the familiar smells of lavender oil and polished wood - all smells that I'd grown up with, smells that should have made me feel safe. Yet, all I could hear was the cautious steps of guards who were pacing the corridor in front of my door. Redcreek had ever before never kept such close watch over me. Every exit was guarded. Every hall was packed with strangers. Even my private balcony was closed off tight, with iron bars designed to look decorative -- thin enough to let the moonlight sneak in but strong enough to remind me that it wouldn't be easy to escape.
I placed my hand over my chest attempting to calm my racing heart. The bond tingled under my skin restless and uneven like something that was injured but didn't know how to heal. Ryder's presence generally rooted me, even from a distance, but now it was broken, and had sent jagged feelings instead of warmth. Confusion flowed through the bond, sharp and disorienting, followed by a hollowness ache which constricted my throat. He was awake. He was struggling. And he couldn't figure out why.
I slid off the bed and made my way across the room, being careful not to make any noise. The marble floor was cold, and it was a good grounding that I needed. I got to the balcony doors and looked through the ironwork. Below, the inner courtyard was lit by torchlight, standing guards were placed in pairs near every archway and their armor shone and their expressions were vigilant. This wasn't ordinary protection; it was containment. They weren't on the lookout for threats, they were on the lookout for me.
A wave of distress rose in the bond this time stronger. My hand gripped the cool metal bar as Ryder's raw emotions ran over me - frustration, restlessness, an edge of anger with no definite target. I closed my eyes, resting my forehead on the iron while struggling against the desire to reach for him, to escape even though the guards and all the consequences of that wait outside these walls awaited me.
"I can't," I whispered into the silence fully aware no one could hear me. "I can't make this worse."
Leaving the palace right now would only cause more chaos in what he was struggling with. The elders were already watching everything he did. If I showed up they would be suspicious and raise questions he wasn't ready to face. I had promised myself to give him space, to allow him time to heal without the weight of truths to which he wasn't ready. That promise seemed to be/swirl in the bond pain.
There were footsteps that stopped outside of my door. I straightened, managing to give myself a calm expression as there was a soft knock.
"Princess Olivia," thus called one of the guards through the thick wood. "Elder Vincent asks that you go to your quarters tonight. For your safety."
"For my safety," I echoed; my tone even. "Of course."
The footsteps moved on, but the message was still heavy in the air. They were expecting me to try to leave. They were ready for it. Once the corridor was quiet again I returned to the bed, sitting on the edge of the bed with my hands folded in my lap. My pulse wouldn't ease. Every part of me was attracted to Ryder, pulled to him by the bond even as I fought it.
Images flitted at the edge of my thoughts - impressions flowing through the bond and not memories. Ryder standing in a ring alone, fists in, breathing uneven. Ryder staring at his hands as if they were not his own: Ryder waking up with a name on his lips that was foreign. Each impression increased the ache in my chest.
"I'm here," I whispered softly, hoping that the bond would carry my words just as clearly as it carried my feelings. "You're not alone."
The reaction was instant and very painful. Confusion ran through, and then it was a wave of wanting so powerful it took my breath. I let out a gasp, putting my fingers into the mattress, as heat built in my lower abdomen, right above my hip. The mate mark. I'd gotten used to living with its gentle heat, a constant reminder of our connection, but now it burned like someone had pressed a burning blade against my skin.
I drew a sharp breath, my teeth were clenched, I stood suddenly and paced the room. This pain wouldn't fade. It spread, and went outward, pulsing, pulsing, with my heartbeat. This had never occurred before - not even when Ryder was hurt or when borders and bloodshed separated us. This felt different. This was the bond reacting to that which was unfamiliar.
"Easy," I murmured to myself, bracing against a carved pillar near the bed. "Just breathe."
I drew up the hem of my nightdress, and looked down at the mark. The crescent-shaped symbol faintly glowed below my skin, the edges sharp, the center growing brighter with each pulse. I had heard stories of marks that responded to danger, rejection or loss. None of those answers fit very well, but nonetheless, fear crept in, cold and insistent.
Another wave of emotion tore through the bond: stronger than before. Ryder's distress cut into something bordering on panic, with an unfamiliar determination. He was making a choice I could feel - his thoughts changing focus, his focus narrowing. Whatever he was about to do, it won't be cautious.
The pain flared again, enough to make my knees give way. I sank down the pillar till I was sitting on the floor, my back against the polished stone, my breath coming in quick gasps. Tears stung my eyes, but not of fear, more of frustration. I had never felt so helpless, so caged in luxury and watchful eyes while the person bonded to me unraveled beyond my reach.
"I should be there," I said aloud breathlessly. "I should help you remember."
A firmer knocking sounded at the door. "Princess Olivia," called the guard, "Are you ill?"
"I'm fine," I replied, forcing strength into my voice. "I just need some rest."
There was a pause and then I heard the guard's footsteps retreat. When the silence subsided, I forced myself to my feet. The pain subsided a bit but it was still there, a reminder of pain with every breath. I moved back to the balcony doors, and pressed my palm into the mark of the mate through the fabric as if that would calm it down.
The bond twisted and tightened up like a thread being pulled too far. Heat came again, hotter than before, and I cried out, biting back the sound as it wrenched from my throat. The mark was burned with fire and alive to acknowledge it.
Somewhere beyond these palace walls, Ryder was reaching for me without knowing why.