He was tired, but he had slept overlong the night before. He hadn't slept well. It had been the sleep of exhaustion, of necessary respite not of enjoyment. Sleep might never be enjoyable again. The dramatics of the night before had only underlined how serious this had become.
There was some residual guilt for Lyn having stayed home, but with Gentil's actions last night most of his guilt was still reserved for his actions toward Coraline. They might very well need the Death Knight there for others.
The mark on his back was gone. They had checked and rechecked Lyn's work. He kept his part of the bond quiet in his head, embarrassed at his weakness still and hid more physically in the estate's tea room. It wasn't that Lyn didn't know where he was - he didn't sleep and Lyren didn't pretend he hadn't noticed lich blue eyes following him when he padded out of their room in the morning.
There was a book open in his lap. He wasn't reading it. Long slender fingers gripped in almost white knuckled as his brain went over what could have been. Not just with him. Why hadn't he thought to use polymorph earlier? They could have freed both Gentil and the Shadoloran scion.
But he hadn't, and that meant there was at least one of them out there that he could have prevented. And Silvermoon - if he was braver he would have suggested going to the city and see what was going on. Flynn and Dakkian could and were looking after Gentil - the morning was still young. But it had been a long night.
He was used to fire. Fire was his. The fact that his new home at the Ryder Estate had been threatened with it made him bristle. And of course that had been the threat - he knew very well how easily things fell to flames. It was no surprise that first Donavin and then Gentil had threatened the building with fire. It did show how complacent he was, being used to living on Starsong's lands.
The wards here were… different. Newer. Not necessarily worse but… Starsong had wards and runes that were literally soaked with the blood of generations of their family. Flynn had created these wards what, two years ago? The property wasn't ready for an actual assault. They had been lucky - lucky with Gentil and Donavin. Lucky with him, that Ash had stopped him before he got as far gone as they were.
Now, he could only hope their lucky held.
Like hell was he suggesting they use those damn chains again.
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A part of Lyren really didn't want to wake up. His dreams were filled with fire and blood and Coraline - Coraline screaming, screeching. Blond hair streaked with blood.
But that hadn't happened. Ice. Ice and failure and relief. There was another familiar mind working in his and the more it worked the easier it was to think. Guilt hit, hard, and he didn't want to be awake.
He had failed. And he was so glad about it. But the voices were not. While oddly muffled by Lyn's - yes, that was Lyn cracking open his mind and trying to drive them out - efforts he could still feel them, the whispers growing angrier, painful. The mark itched and burned, flared - and went dull.
It didn't disappear. Not entirely. The hook was still there - but the voices were, for a moment, distant enough to sound like nothing more than a rushing brook. He could wake up without worry. No more shrieking, or dreams, or headaches. He could still feel what they had wanted him to do. What they still wanted.
But he could wake up sane. For the moment.
He didn't want to.
He had put a dagger to Coraline's skin. He would have hurt her. Could have killed her, sliding it up her wrist, across her palm. She trusted him. He wasn't worthy of it. Wasn't worthy of the worry and love, of Ash and Lyn. His guiding stars, his light in the darkness… it would have been far easier, to stay in the dark.
That luxury was not available to him.
His eyes cracked open and he swallowed through a dry throat. He shifted, the mark on his back dull and faded but not gone as he turned over. His stomach rolled as the memories flashed by. He glanced up, daring to meet his lovers' eyes and opened his mouth.
"I'm going to be sick," was not at all what he meant to say - but it had the mage darting off the bed and into the bathroom, retching up the bare contents of his stomach and clinging to a few more minutes of being able to pretend this wasn't happening.
