Page 7 of The Shadow Sanctum

Or, more likely, Father knows Persephone is missing. I’ve never been more grateful for an interruption.

I turn back to Sawyer. “My father must have realized Persephone is missing… I have to take care of this. Go wait for me at the training house. It’ll be safe there.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want to leave you. I’ll talk to your father now, and⁠—”

“Are you insane?” I narrow my eyes. “He thinks you're still at the mines. He’ll punish us both if he realizes I let you out early. And his pet is missing. He…” I don’t even bother finishing the thought. Instead, I sigh, rise onto my toes, and kiss Sawyer’s cheek. “Wait for me at the training house. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Luna,” he hisses when I walk toward the door.

I ignore him and turn the lock before shoving through the door. My composure rights itself as I make my way down the stairs and out into the cold, winter air. I feel my face harden and my abs contract. If I spoke, I know my voice would be as cold as the snow beneath my boot.

For the hours I join the Keepers in search of the missing girl, I’m lost in my head. Trying to understand Sawyer is like trying to solve an impossible riddle—and after an hour the need for answers dims. His bizarre behavior hardly even matters.

He came back.

I’m not naive enough to believe it was for me, but whatever his reason, it wasn’t selfish. I suspect he knew his freedom would come at a cost.

If only he knew I was willing to pay it.

CHAPTER 3

LUNA

Sawyer did a good job with Persephone’s dress.

I carry the torn scraps of fabric with my arms delicately positioned as if it’s her body I’m holding, rusted blood marring the white fabric. The frayed edges are a nice touch. If I didn’t know what really happened to the girl, I would believe she really was eaten by an animal.

Pausing outside my father’s study, I knock once before stepping back.

“Come in,” he slurs through the door.

I step inside without a word, quietly shutting the door behind me. My head bows as I present the dress. “This was all that was recovered… I’m sorry, Your Eminence.”

The leather couch squeaks as he sinks into it, a long sigh rushing from his lips, pelting me with the smell of whiskey.

“That’s disappointing.” Leaning forward, he snatches the torn pieces of cloth from my hand and tosses them to the edge of the sofa. It feels symbolic, though I don’t think he means for it to. Like he’s discarded Persephone as quickly as he acquired her.

I’m glad she’s gone.

“You were right.” He relaxes back in his seat, his foot lifting to rest on his opposite knee. “She was weak. And this is my fault. I should’ve forbidden her from going to the woods alone.”

“If you care for a girl like glass, she’ll become glass.”

“Care for her like stone, and she’ll become stone.”

Finally, I raise my eyes to find him staring at me with a small, sad smile. A man of strength who has no time to grieve. Or a sociopath who can’t bring himself to pretend.

“Is that what I did right with you?” He whispers as he looks at me in a way I used to think was love. Adoration. Pride.

Now… I don’t know what it is. Perhaps it is pride, but only pride for himself. Perhaps it is love, but only for what he has accomplished. He is Frankenstein and I am his monster.

He blows out a deep breath and rests his arm over the back of the couch. “You’re still angry with me.”

I lower my eyes once more and tense when he pats the cushion beside him. My heart quickens, the smell of wood polish intensifying. The reaction makes no sense—I’m far from surprised. I knew the price for his companion’s freedom.

But it’s been a long time since I’ve sat on this couch.

After a few moments of hesitation, I perch on the edge of the leather with my back straight. Father scoots forward to join me and pulls my hair off my shoulder to reveal my face. His hand reaches toward my swollen eye before retreating again.