Chapter 7The unbearable, unmistakable rocking of a coach rolling over country roads had Elis’s gut churning. Despite the drugs in his system meant to dull the pain, Elis felt every bump and sway, glad he was too empty to vomit, else he’d have filled the coach every time he floated back to episodes of consciousness.
“Tell the driver to go slower,” Latham’s stern voice said from somewhere nearby when Elis groaned as they went over a severe bump, rattling the entire coach. The journey eased and Elis was allowed to sink into blissful darkness. A hand holding his, softly stroking his knuckles, lulled him into unconsciousness once more.
* * * *
Elis resurfaced again, unsure how much time had passed, his eyelids too heavy and sore to open. But he was warm, comfortably wrapped in Latham’s scent
