The wooden door swung open with a loud thud, hitting the wall behind it. He didn't see her at first. Stepping cautiously into the room, his breath caught in the back of his throat. She lay on the ground, a crumpled dirty heap, unconscious.
A bellow of rage fell from his lips as he rushed toward her, picking her up gently. She sighed gently. Cien took a deep ragged breath. She was alive. He crushed her to him, holding her close and rocking her gently.
Guilt rushed over him in a hot scalding wave. If he hadn't taken so long, she would already be back at the keep. Warm, clean and safe. "I'm sorry Regan..." He felt the burning sting of tears behind his eyes and blinked furiously. He would not cry. He had disappointed her, practically left her for dead. That gave him no right to cry.
But the tears fell anyway.
The tears fell on Regan's face, making small clean streaks down her pale face. After a few moments, he forced himself to stop his womanly ways. Lying her back down on the sad excuse for a bed pallet, he took inventory of her. Her face was dirty and bloodied on one side. It looked like old blood, but he wasn't quite sure how old the blood was.
She had bruises on her arms and he assumed she would have them on her legs as well. Anger fresh, consuming and scalding bubbled up inside him. He smiled grimly. Anger he knew all to well. Anger he could deal with. Anger at the MacPhearsons' and his bastard cousin Alex.
They had been beating her.
As far as he could tell, they were trying to beat her into submission, not to death, or she would already be dead. He stood and looked down at her for a moment. He heart sang that she was alive, and that he had found her. His Rose, or Regan, what did that matter, she was alive!