The Brave Human Mate

64.

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Healer Rhea's POV

There were many nights when Rhea had wanted to stay in bed, to forget her tasks and responsibilities and just allow the world to spin on its own without leaving the warmth of the covers.

But things were not so simple.

It started with a few voices shouting off in the distance, which she passed off as training—Given that the courtyards were just below one of her many windows. And since Romulus didn't stir or sound alarmed, there was no point to ruin their comfortable position.

Though it was the ravished pounding on the door that had once again tempted the choice between responding or ignoring. That choice was soon made for her as a mixture of guards and Enforcers had come forward and started to barrel through her entire room.

Through blurry vision and a headache taking up the better half of the back of her head, she watched as these males had taken to turning over every piece of furniture—Ripping her documents off the desk and sorting through them.

"H—hey!" Her voice slurred as she tried to sit up and stop them. They were private plans, ones that she had shared in the company of only her males and Romulus.

But even she wasn't a fool to write the important things and leave them in plain sight.

With her sudden movements, the males surrounding her had started to withdraw their search and subdue Rhea—Knocking her back down into the cushion where she caught another glimpse of Romulus.

And still the male didn't awaken.

"Romulus—Rom!" She tried to shout, but it was hidden behind her inability to use her tongue and speak. Even as her arms were bound with tight chains.
Yet all she could fathom was the fact that they were stripping her away from the King.

The King, who in fact, looked sickly pale—Her mind was racing a million thoughts a second, but she couldn't think of any possible reason as to why he was looking so frail.

Rhea could hardly use her legs, even so, she attempted to fight—For them to see reason. Yet the wolves did no such thing, as they were operating on a one-track mind.

Leading her straight to the cold dungeons, not even clothing her the long distance down to save her dignity or modesty.

Her cries grew hoarse, and the tears she wept were going unanswered. It felt as though there was a constant replay of the warmth she and Romulus shared to the blaring intrusion of wolves gathering and taking her away.

For what?

What had happened? 

What had gone wrong?

Even now, she could hardly move a muscle—Even with the rats scurrying about the cobblestone floor beside her. She could feel the etchings of what she hoped would be dirt and not the former.

Whatever was happening, had some relation to how she was feeling. But thinking further seemed impossible—And though the chill she was experiencing was not a comfort, all she could find mercy in is closing her eyes.

Hoping that rest would offer some sort of tranquil peace to escape to.

* * *

Time felt like an illusion, but Rhea knew better. There had been a small celled vent at the corner of the room. And as far as she could tell, the light shining inside had not disappeared—Unless she had slept for the entirety of the first day.