CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

Noah's POV

I sat up in bed with my hands to my head and my fingers gripping my temples like a man on a cliff edge hanging on for dear life.

I slept last night but I didn't sleep. My thoughts were relentless and unending. I turned and groaned in bed all through the witches hour. I couldn't breathe steady and my eyes shot open and glanced at every corner at the slightest noise.

I had a strange dream.

And a dream I couldn't shake off even now that the morning sun was breaking through the blinds of my window sill. The birds were chirping and squirrels chattered outside but the voice of my mind was louder.

I had seen Myra being taken away from the cabin, tied up and bundled into a carriage by two people, but their faces were dark and hazy; unanimously blurry.

They had come immediately the sun rose, almost as if they already knew she was there and subdued her with ease when she tried to defend herself.

I had jerked out of bed, only to see my body drenchd in sweat, with my mind screaming a