Nineteen – 09

The pair froze for a second, staring at each other with wary disbelief and barely contained hope. Phelan realized he couldn’t breathe. They’d nearly given up hope as the weeks had gone on and Thordin showed no signs of waking.

And now, here was Neve, pounding on their door and telling them that he was suddenly, impossibly awake.

Jacqueline recovered her voice first, climbing out of bed with Phelan right behind her. “Who’s with him?”

“Sif was there when he woke up; I left them together.”

Phelan winced, thinking that could be both a good and a bad thing. She’d been taking his condition hard, but that wasn’t going to stop her from telling him exactly what she thought of the stunt he’d pulled—and the jury was still out on whether Sif thought it was idiotic or ridiculously heroic.

The fact of the matter is that it was absolutely both.

“We’d better hurry,” he told Jacqueline softly. She barked a rough laugh and shook her head.

“You think so, huh?”

Phelan laughed weakly and caught her hand just long enough to give it a quick squeeze.

“We’re coming, Neve,” he called through the door. “Just give us a few minutes.”

“Good. I’m going to get some soup or something.”

“Good call,” Jacqueline told her as she stopped to pull her boots on. Phelan stood transfixed for a moment, watching her in the simple act of lacing those boots back up and barely managed to swallow a fond sigh.

Jacqueline glanced up at him, her brow arching slightly. “Are you coming with me?”

He shook himself and nodded. “Of course I am. You might need someone to hold him or Sif down.”

Jacqueline grinned at the wry humor and stood up. “I might, but I hope not.”

“Me too.” He leaned in, lips brushing her cheek lightly. She reached up and brushed his hair back from his face, smiling fondly, then turned and headed out the door, clearly trusting him to follow in her wake.

Phelan smiled, his throat tight.

Interruptions or not, he had a lot to be thankful for.

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