Page 13 of Sun, Moon & Shadow

“Of course.” Nova stood, smoothing her hands over the fine fabric clinging to her hips. Fawn grinned as she took Nova by the hand and linked arms with her, leading her to the door.

The pleasant sound of male laughter drifted down the hall as they approached the library. Nova halted in the doorway, gawking at the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lining the walls, each one stuffed practically to bursting with thick leather-bound volumes. Never in all her life had she seen so many. Her fingers tingled with the urge to gather a stack in her arms.

The high ceiling was ablaze, the entire expanse painted with a mural depicting Embra, the goddess of the hunt and harvest. Bright copper curls danced wildly around her face. Flames poured forth from her outstretched hands as she scorched a field of threshed wheat to enrich the soil for the next planting.

“Evander, this is Nova.” Fawn stepped to the side, pulling her forward and presenting her to the room. “You’ve already met our cousin, Cal,” she added, waving a hand in the air dismissively.

A male rose from a high-backed armchair, but Nova passed him over, her gaze immediately drawn to Callan’s silhouette standing tall before a row of large windows. Bracers still on each wrist, he wore black breeches and a tunic of cobalt blue that pulled at the width of his broad shoulders. He turned to face her, and she joined him where he stood, bathed in the golden light of the late afternoon sun slanting through the glass. When they first met, she had thought his hair was black, but in the sunlight, she could see it was a deep brown, the color of freshly turned earth.

He brushed several strands of hair from his face and reached out his hand toward her, smiling warmly. A single dimple flashed on his left cheek. Nova took his hand, his fingers rough against the softness of her own. Her chest erupted with an intense flutter at the contact, like hundreds of papery butterfly wings beating.

While he was far more refined than the tracker who had appeared on her doorstep in Timberfell, he looked nowhere near as breathtaking as the regal Fae male he had revealed himself to be in the dim light of her kitchen. In the bright light of day, however, she could appreciate the finer details of his face. The flat brows and long, straight nose sitting over sensual lips. Those brown eyes flecked with gold, even more captivating than she remembered.

“It’s nice to see you again, Callan,” she said.

“Call him Cal, everyone does.” Fawn tapped Nova’s shoulder, gesturing to the sideboard set with tea service. The white porcelain teapot and dainty, flared cups were painted with a pattern of intricate gold leaves.

“I’m pleased to see you back on your feet,” he said, his low voice like a caress as he made a slight bow. Callan released her hand, which hung in the air for a beat before she remembered to lower it.

Nova’s eyes didn’t leave Callan’s until he shot a sideways glance at the other male, still standing in front of his seat. Shorter and leaner than Callan, the second male was finely dressed with fair skin. He had an impish look about him with hazel eyes and faint freckles dusting the bridge of his nose. One ear was pierced with a gold ring.

“I’m Evander.” Taking hold of her hand, he brushed a soft kiss against her knuckles. “And you are positively delicious.” Nova dipped in a quick curtsy and slowly drew her hand back.

Evander grinned wickedly and fell into his seat, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other.

“Ignore my brother, Nova,” Fawn sighed with an exaggerated roll of her eyes, waving her over to take a seat. “Gods know, I usually do.”

Fawn carefully poured a cup of herbal tea and delivered the saucer into Nova’s hands. Nova watched the fragrant dried leaves swirl on the surface of the steaming water.

“So, Nova,” Fawn began excitedly, raising her cup to her lips. “It seems we missed your birthday.”

“Yes,” Nova replied, taking a seat and stirring a spoonful of golden honey into her tea. “My twenty-fifth.”

“I forgot entirely,” Callan said, turning to her from where he still stood looking out the window. “Happy birthday, Nova.”

“That’s very kind of you,” she said, before sipping from her cup. “In all the excitement, I had forgotten it myself.”

She froze, realizing the three of them, who seemed to be roughly her age, were likely much, much older.

“Exactly how old are all of you—if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I’m the youngest,” Fawn said, her mouth full, gesturing toward the others with a half-eaten tea biscuit. “I’m only two hundred and fifty years old.”

“I’m two hundred and seventy-five,” Evander said. “That grandsire over there is three hundred.” He pointed at Callan who closed his eyes and shook his head slightly, the corners of his mouth lifting into a ghost of a smile. Clearly, he was accustomed to Evander’s teasing manner.

“I can’t believe it.” Evander’s voice was suddenly close to her ear as he leaned in toward her, eyeing her with what seemed like amusement, as if she were a curiosity in a traveling carnival. “I’ve never met a human before. Or someone from the Human Realm, at any rate.” He extended a finger and ran it lightly along her forearm.

“Oh, leave her alone, Evander.” Fawn swatted her brother’s hand away, and he sat back in his seat.

Thank the gods.

While Nova was newly arrived in Aemoria, she was fairly certain pulling away from Evander’s touch would have been considered a slight in any realm.

“Are you feeling well?” Callan asked a moment later. Nova realized she must have been staring off at nothing in particular.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she said, clearing her throat. “I didn’t sleep well—nightmares.”

“I’m not surprised considering all you’ve been through,” Fawn said, patting the back of Nova’s hand.