Chapter 1
It’s another night Dovey can't seem to find any rest. Another night in which she finds herself sitting up, covered in a thin layer of sweat, reaching out to check on the woman next to her. It’s what she does every fucking time, every single second of her day, since that one day four months, eight days and fourteen hours ago.
Leonora’s hair reaches her ribs now. They keep it braided most of the time, to avoid mats and anything that could mean further discomfort, and they’ll cut it soon, Clarissa is sure of that. At least that’s what she hopes to do when Leonora opens her eyes again. For now she rests.
And maybe resting is what the dean for good is supposed to do, too. The sun is creeping over the mountains and morning has begun already, but as far as she remembers it is Sunday and there isn’t much she has to do that day.
So she settles again, turns on her side to watch her partner. The redhead’s eyes are closed and her chest is rising and falling slowly, calmly, as if she was just asleep, and much to her own surprise a gentle smile settles on Clarissa’s lips. ‘Love does that to people’ she thinks when she catches herself and for a moment her smile turns into a grin, before she remembers that this isn’t their happily ever after yet but the exact opposite: hell on earth.
When nightmares haunt her it’s always the same that makes her sit up and gasp for air. It’s always Leonora falling, hitting the body of water underneath, her piercing scream that makes Dovey’s heart beat ten thousand times faster than before. That makes her skin crawl and her breathing stop, her heart rate shoot through the roof and her fingers tingle. She will remember the sound the woman’s body made when it hit the surface for the rest of her life, until she dies, and sometimes she wishes it would happen right this second.
It had taken time for them to get her. Not even spells had been powerful enough to breach Rafal’s dark magic so the wolves had retrieved her from the lake, carried her broken body to the shore where the rest stood and watched in horror.
Lady Lesso had always seemed untouchable. Powerful, stronger than anyone else — both mentally and physically — and god, respected. Nobody had ever dared to question anything she said or even just thought, and so it was a shock to see her lifeless and shattered in strong arms on the way to the dark castle.
Most of her wounds have healed by now, but with her still being unconscious it is still unclear how great the damage is. They still expect the worst, that her heart just stops beating one day and she stops fighting, gives up, lets go. Clarissa wouldn’t blame her.
“Good morning, Love” the blonde woman mumbles and finds herself stretching. Then she reaches out for her slender fingers, gives them a gentle squeeze and runs the side of her thumb over the back of Lesso’s hand. It’s cold. Always. She almost doesn’t remember how it felt when it was warm. “You need warmer clothes for bed.”
Talking to her is comforting. It took Clarissa a few weeks to find that out but now it comes naturally and maybe Leonora can hear her, maybe she enjoys it. Dovey doesn't know. She doesn’t know how much damage Leonora’s brain took, or her spine. She doesn’t know if her bones have healed properly, or if she'll be able to walk. Even magic isn’t powerful enough to restore her body and for now the woman prays to the Gods in hopes of something, anything, that would help her partner wake up.
This particular morning passes just like the day, and the week, and another month. Like sand through her fingers.