Within (Walk Through Shadows Book One)

Chapter Six

Dawn seemed to arrive early the next morning, stealing Alasdair from Isabelle before either of them were ready to say goodbye. Not that they had been any better prepared for that moment on previous mornings, but that one was especially bad.

Isabelle fell into bed, completely exhausted. She'd spent hours trying to console Alasdair in between bouts of intense sex.

His frustration and anger had been apparent every time the spell asserted itself. Although he hadn't turned it on her, he was just as caring as he'd always been, she could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice.

She rolled onto her side to look at the book. Anger flared in her chest. He was right. Someone should have told him the truth long before the duty had fallen to her. Instead they'd let him go on thinking he'd deserved his imprisonment. She couldn't imagine the weight of that kind of guilt.

"We'll find a way," she whispered.

Hours later she woke to the sound of her phone. Bernie had texted her to find out if they'd gotten any closer to finding a way to free Alasdair. After several pleas Alasdair had relented and let her contact Bernie but he hadn't been able to offer anything more.

No luck so far but it's still glowing. She typed quickly.

That's a good sign.

I'll keep trying.

Okay. Let me know if you need anything.

She flipped the blanket back and swung her legs off the bed to sit up. Her stomach rumbled loudly.

"I'm going, I'm going," she mumbled as she placed her hand on her belly. It was a habit she'd developed soon after finding out she was pregnant. "Mommy isn't doing the best job looking after you so far huh?" She stood, stretched, and looked down at her still flat stomach. "I'll do better I promise. I just need to get your daddy out of there."

After a quick breakfast she showered and dressed then went back to the night stand. The book was still open from the previous night.

"What else can I try?" she asked softly. The words on the pages didn't rearrange themselves to reveal the answer, not that she had expected them to, so she turned away with a sigh.

She wandered through the house lost in thought, not noticing until she was standing in front of a door she hadn't opened in a long time. The door to John's office. It was in the back of the house, away from any distractions.

It had once been her favourite place to escape to but after he died she could barely bring herself to go near it.

She touched the door gently, closing her eyes against the ache in her chest. Tears slid down her cheeks as she stood there. She rested her forehead against the dark wood, took a breath, and opened her eyes. She was looking at her stomach again and her lips curved in a sad smile.

She gripped the knob and turned it slowly. After she took another deep breath she shoved it open. The hinges creaked softly. She blinked back new tears as the desk came into view. Dust motes danced in the sunlight streaming though the curtains behind the desk. She stepped into the room slowly, anxiously waiting for the onslaught of pain that had engulfed her the last time she had tried to go into that room.

It didn't come. Instead there was a dull ache in her chest but it was no where near as bad as it had been in the past.

She moved farther into the room, carefully avoiding looking at the framed pictures scattered among the rows of books in the bookcases. She was there for a reason, which was not to test how much she'd healed.