Page 21 of Sun, Moon & Shadow

Callan’s arms hovered out at his sides for a breath before he wrapped them loosely around her shoulders. One hand stroked her hair while the other rested on her upper back, his fingertips grazing the pearly scars extending down from her left shoulder. They remained that way for several minutes, neither one breaking the silence.

“Another nightmare?” he asked once her heartbeat evened out, the breath from his whispered words tickling the shell of her ear.

Nova nodded, finally loosening her grip on him and pulling back to see his face.

“Did you see it? The darkness?”

Callan shook his head slowly.

“It felt so real.” She brought her fingers to her brow. “The darkness—it touched me, and I was taken to another place. A dark citadel by the sea. There was someone there with me. It felt as if they could see me—actually see me.” Nova shook her head, attempting to erase the memory of the silver eyes that seemed to see through to the very heart of her.

Callan’s forehead creased briefly, the expression there and gone in an instant. A thin smile followed.

“It’s all right. It’s over now,” he reassured her, laying his hand over hers. Nova glanced down. His shirt was untucked with the sleeves pushed up over his muscled forearms. Each wrist was marked with a thick ring of black ink.

“What are these?” she asked, running a finger lightly over one of the cuffs.

“I made a vow to Nivali long ago. To defend it with my life. These are a reminder of my vow.” His voice was strained, and she wondered if the markings pained him. “You should rest,” he murmured, guiding her down onto the pillow.

Nova’s panic surged again. She couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving. Of being alone in the dark.

“Will you stay with me?” The words fell from her lips before she could stop them. She winced at the neediness in her voice, grateful for the darkness that allowed her to hide her face from him.

“As you wish.” Callan rose from the bed and made for the armchair in the sitting area.

“No, here,” she said quietly. “Please?” There was that neediness again.

Callan paused briefly before turning back to face her. He lowered himself onto the bed beside her, stretching out on top of the covers and leaning back against the headboard. Nova rolled into him instinctively, her hand going to the center of his chest. He was still at first but then wrapped an arm around her.

Nova lacked the energy to question the profound sense of calm that settled over her when Callan was nearby. As soon as she closed her eyes, she fell into a peaceful slumber.

Eleven

Early-morning light filtered through the windowpane, drawing Callan from his sleep. Confusion struck as he glanced around at the unfamiliar surroundings. He flinched at a quiet stirring beside him and found Nova nuzzling her cheek against the pillow, her face innocent and untroubled as she slept, her soft lips parted slightly. Callan rose from the bed as quickly as he could manage without waking her. He had intended to leave her chamber once she fell asleep, but he’d drifted off as well.

His thoughts returned to the night before.

After bidding Nova good night, he had first paced along the far wall of his chamber before forcing himself to sit beside the fire. He sank into the armchair and stared into the low, lapping flames. The sound Nova made when he touched her face in the hallway outside her room had bewitched him. He’d wanted to cover her mouth with his and drink in that gasp. To taste it on his tongue and swallow it down, keeping it for himself. He’d grown hard at the mere thought of it. It was unusual. True, he was no stranger to female company. But it had been many years since he’d lain with anyone, and he’d never desired anything beyond a single encounter.

Before long, his eyes had fallen shut, but not to sleep. Callan’s hand drifted from the arm of the chair to the swell in his lap, growing evidence of his attraction to a female he barely knew. He imagined her in his chamber with him. Hair unbound and cheeks pink. Those long legs, her thighs, supple and strong, straddling his own. But most of all, he imagined that sweet, soft sound escaping from her mouth. He’d gripped himself through his breeches, hissing a breath between his teeth, desperate to relieve the pressure.

Nova’s scream had ripped him from the fantasy, the sound slicing through him like an icy blade. The air in her chamber was thick with the scent of her terror when he threw open the door and raced to her side. Still, he hadn’t expected her to wrap her arms around him, clinging to him as if his embrace was all that kept her from shattering into a thousand tiny pieces.

Gods help him, he enjoyed it.

Nova’s breath had slowed as he stroked her hair, the scent of her fear gradually dissipating. It was then that he detected it: the scent of her desire. It was the same fragrance he already associated with her but highly concentrated, sweet and smoky, unique to her. It lingered in the corners of the room, faint but potent.

His chest had tightened with the foolish hope that he was the object of her desire. But he’d lived with Evander for decades. He’d seen time and again how females responded to his cousin’s playful charm and ready smile. Surely, Nova had missed Evander at dinner and had been thinking of him as she lay in bed.

Callan left Nova sleeping and crept out of the room, returning to his own chamber. Raking a hand through his hair, he threw himself down on his bed, sprawling out on the cold, rumpled sheets.

What had come over him? While Evander’s delivery had been harsh, Callan could admit his cousin was right. His responsibility for Nova ended once he delivered her to the Pyralis Estate. He had told himself he would stay away. He’d spent the past week intentionally keeping as far away from her as possible, a feat requiring no small measure of effort and restraint on his part.

Then he’d gone and touched her—several times in the span of a few hours. The slightest touch was all it took to set his heart racing, awakening something within him that had lain dormant for longer than he even remembered. Like a fool, he’d offered to train her, an activity that would bring them together as often as she wished it. Callan ran a hand over his jaw and chuckled humorlessly at his apparent newfound affinity for torture.

Nothing would ever come of it, he knew. But he couldn’t deny that it felt right somehow. The two of them. Together.

Callan dragged himself from his bed and into the bathing chamber to make himself presentable before breakfast, welcoming the icy water as it rained down upon his heated body.