“That made no sense to me,” Rionna said tiredly.

Keeley smiled down at her as Rionna opened her eyes again.

“Where is Caelen?” she asked, voicing the question that had burned in her mind from the moment she woke up.

“He hasn’t yet awakened.”

Rionna struggled up, nearly fainting from the red-hot pain that lanced through her back. “How long have I lain here?” she asked hoarsely, ignoring Keeley’s attempts to make her lie back down.

“The journey back here took two days and you’ve been insensible with fever for the last seven.”

Panic gripped Rionna by the throat. It took every bit of her strength, but she pushed Keeley aside and forced herself up from the bed.

“Where is he?” she demanded, even as she staggered toward the door.

“Where is who? Rionna, stop at once. You’re too weak and you’ve still got a fever.”

She threw open the door. “Caelen,” she replied. “Where is he?”

“In his chamber, of course. Now come back. For God’s sake, you’ve naught on but your nightdress.”

Rionna warded off Keeley’s grasp and strode down the hallway and around the bend. Gannon stood outside Caelen’s door and he didn’t look at all happy to see her.

He rushed to catch her before her knees gave out. “Sweet Jesu, my lady. What are you thinking?”

Keeley caught up to Rionna just as she tried to shake off Gannon’s grasp.

“Move out of my way,” she gritted out. “I would see my husband for myself.”

Gannon’s eyes softened and he wrapped a strong arm around her waist. “If I let you inside, you have to swear you’ll return to your bed. ’Tis the truth you look like death.”

“Thanks,” Rionna grumbled. “You flatter me so.”

Keeley turned her lips in to hide the smile. “I’ll wait out here, Rionna. But I’m coming in to get you after a moment. Don’t think I won’t.”

“It might take more than a moment to convince my stubborn husband he’s not going to die,” Rionna bit out as she walked through the door.

Gannon and Keeley exchanged puzzled glances but Rionna was already gone.

Rionna barely made it to Caelen’s bed before her legs gave out. She perched herself on the edge and looked upon her husband’s face. He looked at peace. No lines carved across his forehead. He lay so still that it frightened her.

Then anger consumed her and she leaned forward so that she was close to his face and there was no chance he couldn’t hear her. She’d make him hear her, by God.