19
It was still hours before dawn when something jolted Brock from his sleep. He struggled for a moment, the dream of riding through the forests with Joanna at his side still lingering in his mind, before a strangled panting sound caught his attention and drove him fully awake.
Joanna!
He turned toward his wife, and panic seized him. She was writhing in pain. Beads of sweat dewed on her forehead, and she clutched her stomach as she curled in around herself.
“Lass, what’s wrong?” He pulled the bedclothes back, afraid he would see blood or some evidence that he had harmed her during their lovemaking, but he saw nothing save her legs, which were bent up in a state of agony. He tried to catch his breath as his heart beat a visible pulse under his skin as loud as thunder. She couldn’t be il
