Page 48 of Sun, Moon & Shadow

She spun around, and he stopped short.

“What’s wrong?” she snapped. “I just met my mother.”

“What?” Callan shook his head.

“My mother, Callan. The one who abandoned me. Who lied to my father—no—he wasn’t my father.” She was rambling, words spilling out in a confusing mess.

“Slow down. What is going on?” Callan spoke softly, his hands held out with palms facing her, as if to remind her he wasn’t a threat.

“Did you know?” she demanded coldly.

“Know what?” His hands hovered above her shoulders, but he didn’t touch her.

“About my father?”

“I see that you’re angry, and I want to help, but I don’t know what’s going on.”

Nova shoved against his chest, forcing some distance between them. If she couldn’t hide her emotions, she’d cling to her godsdamned rage. She refused to let anyone see her pain.

“Of course I’m angry!” She struck his chest again with all her strength. His body barely registered the assault. “Everything I’ve ever known has been a lie.”

Nova’s restraint crumbled, her anger giving way as she collapsed to her knees a second time. Her breath was too fast. Too shallow. She couldn’t get enough air. A rush of tears flowed from her like a burst dam. Tears caused by more than the shock of seeing her mother alive, or the revelation about her true father.

Tears she never shed during the torment she endured as a child.

Tears she silenced when her first love cast her aside.

Tears she bit back when she lost the only father she’d ever known. The only person who had ever truly loved her.

Tears she swallowed when she left the Human Realm and the life she’d created for herself, however lonely it had been.

Callan knelt before her, gathering her in his strong embrace. He anchored her and kept her from blowing away like a scrap of parchment on the cool breeze swirling around them. Stroking her hair, he held her close, his low voice a soothing rumble in her ear pressed against his chest.

“I’m here. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Nova clung to him until her tears ran dry and she sagged in his arms, utterly drained.

Twenty-Three

Panic seized Callan for the span of a single beat of his heart when Nova went slack against him. With the next beat, his mind cleared and he took action, lifting her into his arms and racing back to the ship. The crew looked on, baffled, as he boarded the vessel cradling a motionless Nova. He called for someone to open the hatch at the stern and carried her inside the small cabin, laying her down on a lumpy straw cot made up with woven blankets.

“Food and water—now,” he ordered. The sailor rushed out, returning soon after with a hunk of bread, some smoked meat, and a flask of water.

Callan crouched beside the mattress and patted Nova gently on the cheek, repeating her name. He poured a trickle of water into the corner of her mouth before emptying some into his hand and dabbing it over her face and neck. Nova stirred and rose onto her elbows, blinking rapidly as she looked around the cramped cabin.

“Are you all right?” He cradled her chin in his hands and ducked his head to meet her gaze. After a few seconds, her eyes focused on him, and she nodded slowly.

“Thank the gods.” He dismissed the sailor, who then left them alone.

Callan held the bread out to her, and she ate it quickly before moving on to the slab of dried meat. Washing it all down with several gulps of water, she sighed when she was through, then threw herself down onto the mattress and flung an arm across her eyes.

“I’m such a fool,” she muttered.

“You’re not a fool.”

“You really didn’t know?” She lifted her head, her face open and innocent. “About my father?”

“I know nothing of your father. Apart from my suspicion that he’s a Silvergardian.”