Trace stared in confusion as Denholm and the wight left, walking down the narrow stairs the creatures had built for the two humans to access the top of the bed.
He felt a brief flash of regret that Denholm wouldn't stay to help, but he shook it off. Of course, he wanted someone else to share the burden he'd been carrying, but having Denholm here now would be... inconvenient.
Trace turned and pulled Anaisa more fully into his embrace once more, burying his face in her hair.
"I've missed you," He whispered. Her arms tightened around him.
"Not half as much as I've missed you." She replied, tears making her voice rough. "I can't believe you're alright. I had hope, after the dream you sent–"
"You got it?" He pulled back and looked into her face. "I didn't even dare to hope it would come to you. I would have told you to go home and keep our boys safe–"
"It didn't come to me," She frowned at him. "It got to Ford."