Chapter 46 A Dying Circle

• The house was quiet, the world outside muffled by snow thick enough to swallow sound. The steady fall of white blurred the line between earth and sky, leaving only a dense, colorless hush. Inside, the air was warmer, but not by much. The small fire crackled, doing its best to chase away the cold that crept through the walls.
• Lucy sat by Daren’s bedside, a worn blanket draped over her shoulders, the weight of it doing little to steady the knot in her chest.
• He’d been fevered all night. His skin hot, his sleep restless. Murmuring things half-formed, his words flickering between sense and nonsense. Yet there had been moments — brief and terrible — when he spoke with a clarity that made her breath catch.