[POV: SOLENNE]
It was hard to sleep.
Even with warmth in the hearth and food in her belly, Solenne's mind twisted and turned. The room itself was too still, and her survival instincts were screaming at her that she was unsafe.
She tried to rest again, curled beneath the King's luxurious quilt, but her eyes drifted toward the door every few minutes. She didn't know how long it had been since Ruvan left, but she could still feel him.
Her body could feel his presence somewhere close. Was he coming back?
As Solenne lay weakly in bed, she stared up at the ceiling. She couldn't help but think back to when her mother was still alive, wishing things could have stayed like that forever.
They had little money and nothing else going for them, but they were happy. Solenne made poultices and medicines that her mom would sell at the market in the Thornehowl town center.
But when her mom fell sick… it was devastating. It was the first illness that Solenne was unable to heal, and it broke her heart. Since her mother died, she hadn't had the luxury of spending the night in a grand room like the King's chamber. Even with the time-worn furniture and the presence of what felt like ghosts, it was nicer than she was used to.
After losing herself in thought for a while, the door to the bedroom opened and brought her back to the present.
Solenne didn't move at first, only listened while Ruvan stepped inside without a word. When he remained silent after several long moments, she sat herself upright.
The Alpha wasn't carrying food this time, or anything for that matter. He wasn't watching her with curiosity or calculation—his expression was different. It was almost like… he wasn't looking at her at all.
His eyes glowed eerily, and his chest rose and fell too quickly for someone who appeared so calm.
"Someone moved the tapestry," he said.
Solenne blinked. She furrowed her brows as if to say, 'What?'
"The one outside the chamber. I intentionally left it crooked." His voice was steady, bordering on soft.
A sense of foreboding rose in Solenne's chest as she eyed him cautiously. She could immediately tell something was wrong.
"You fixed it," he said.
Solenne slowly shook her head. She hadn't even left the room; her body was so exhausted from everything that happened, she was in his bed the entire time.
Ruvan stepped forward. "You didn't?"
She shook her head again assertively.
His gaze didn't leave hers. "Then who did?"
Solenne pursed her lips and pulled the blanket up slightly, nervousness clawing at her belly.
"Don't move." His voice cut like a blade, cold and sharp. "They'll see."
Solenne froze as Ruvan took another step toward her. His jaw was clenched, and for the second time since she arrived, she saw the madness.
"They're not supposed to move," he said, almost to himself. His eyes were unfocused and flicked between her and something invisible behind her. "Nothing is supposed to change unless I change it."
He looked around the room, scanning the shadows.
"They watch. The walls watch. The warriors. But my things don't move," Ruvan muttered frantically. "If we aren't careful, I'll die, and so will you."
As he grew agitated, the room reacted to his energy. With each quickly uttered word, the flames in the fireplace crackled, and the floor vibrated slightly. Solenne slowly raised her hands feebly to calm him, confused and concerned for herself and him.
He looked at her again with a strange expression, almost amused… but pained simultaneously. His troubled golden gaze harbored a sea of conflicting emotions.
"You remind me of…" The man trailed off and furrowed his brows. "No. Not you. Not again."
Then, without warning, he laughed—just once. It was a sudden, short, sharp burst of sound that startled even him.
"Hah!"
Embers flew out of the fireplace as if the wind had blown them, bouncing on the stone floors before dying again.
She saw the awareness creeping into his expression just after he laughed. He recognized that he'd slipped again, but he didn't seem to care. There was no apology or even an acknowledgment of his outburst.
Ruvan blinked, then straightened his spine. He crossed his arms behind his back and composed himself like nothing had happened.
"It doesn't matter," he said, brushing passed her to the table. "It's just a tapestry."
She didn't move, but a weak sigh of relief escaped her lips.
"You're trembling," he said, glancing back at her with a perplexed frown. "I didn't hurt you."
She sighed and thought to herself, 'No. But you could.'
"You look like you wanted to say something." Ruvan studied her face briefly before grabbing the parchment and quill. He handed it to her, "Write."
Solenne looked at the paper, discouraged. She was left depressed after trying to write earlier, but it was clear he wasn't going to relent. And after this display of insanity, she wasn't eager to upset him.
She took the pen and shakily pressed it to the page. Her hand shivered as she tried to make the letters look at least somewhat presentable.
[Didn't hurt me.]
There was a moment of pause as Solenne silently willed herself to continue, and without warning, Ruvan reached forward and stilled her hand with his. "That isn't all you want to say, is it?"
The warmth of his skin against hers sent goosebumps up her arms and summoned heat to her cheeks and the tops of her ears.
[But you could.]
"Yes," he said quietly. "I could."
Ruvan sat on the table's edge and looked at the dying fire, the reflection of its dying flame in the gloss of his eyes. He stood again, and as he passed her to leave, his fingers brushed her shoulder—too gently for how unstable he'd just been.
"Sleep, little wolf," he whispered. "If the walls move again… I'll be watching."
Then the door shut behind him with a loud 'bang.'
Solenne sat in silence as she realized she wasn't afraid of the fortress, the secrets it kept, or the supposed whispers in the walls. She was scared of him. The way he looked at her was like she belonged to him, and she had never belonged anywhere, or to anyone, before. Yet, despite her fear of him... the idea of being his didn't make her want to run away.