While Ollie began to relax in the Dunn's carriage, speaking at length about Lady Ashlynn and life in her coven, a very different conversation was taking place in the carriage occupied by Sir Cynwrig and his wife, Cerys.
The sun had already begun its descent toward the western mountains when Cerys finally stirred, a low groan of pain escaping her lips as consciousness returned. Her body felt like it had been trampled by horses, which, she supposed with grim humor, wasn't far from the truth.
"Easy," a familiar voice said softly, and she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, keeping her from trying to sit up. "Don't move too quickly. You're safe, but you're badly hurt."
"Cynwrig?" Her voice came out as a rasp, and her throat felt so dry that it was painful to speak.
