Page 96 of Sun, Moon & Shadow

Nova slumped down to sit in the sand, forearms resting on her bent knees. She stared out at the sea, listening to the rhythmic crash of the surf and pressing her tongue repeatedly to her split lip, determined to make herself feel the pain for as long as it lasted. Her wounds were superficial and would heal quickly, likely leaving no trace of a scar. Her sense of self would be another story entirely. She’d lost track of how long she’d been sitting there, the waves tallying the passage of time, when Callan crouched beside her and murmured that it was time to depart.

Lucan divided the Silvergardian archers equally, tasking each group with boarding the two remaining ships and accompanying the reformed rebel forces back to the Estate by sea. Nova mounted Shade, the horse anxious and jumpy beneath her, perhaps feeding off of her own unease. She twisted the reins in her hands as their party galloped south, clinging to the sting along the slash on her abdomen before it faded completely.

Despite the warm welcome that greeted Nova upon her return to the Estate, the cheers and deferential bows as she passed through the courtyard and dismounted, shame continued to weigh her down like a sodden cloak.

Shame sent her to her chamber, where she remained hidden away for several days. She lay in bed with the sheets thrown over her head, unable to face anyone, especially Nox. He had warned her of the dangers. Blinded by her desire for vengeance, she’d refused to listen. Eventually, her uncle sought her out, the mattress dipping as he sat on the edge of the bed beside her. Reluctantly, she tugged the sheet down to meet Nox’s eyes.

“Lucan showed me how you spoke to the soldiers. How they responded to you.” He fished for her hand, grasping it tightly. “I’m so proud of you.”

Her weak smile didn’t fool him.

“What’s the matter?”

Nova spun her ring on her finger, rubbing her thumb over the milky white stone.

“I feel bad—no. Wrong. Not for ending his life.” Nova knew she would never be able to muster a shred of regret for what she’d done, though, admittedly her complete lack of remorse was disconcerting. “For not burning him. Denying him passage to the After Realm. It feels cruel. Like something my father might have done.”

Nox sighed, nudging her with his knee. She shifted to the center of the bed, making room for him to lie beside her, their eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“Lunar folk don’t view darkness as something inherently wrong. Orika is neither good nor evil. She’s a complex deity who enjoys mischief and upheaval. A dash of chaos now and again.” Nox turned his face to her, but she kept looking straight ahead. “It’s within your power to decide who you become—not your father’s, not mine, not anyone else’s.”

Nox curled his fingers under her chin, gently guiding her to look at him.

“You shine so brilliantly,” he said, his pride evident in his charcoal eyes. “But remember, my dear niece, even when the moon is at her brightest, there remains a side of her forever cloaked in shadow.”

Nox remained with her for a time, speaking softly about his dreams for the future of the Lunar Court, seemingly intuiting that she wasn’t interested in speaking much herself. When he left a short while later, she felt lighter somehow and opted to keep her head out from under the covers.

It wasn’t long before her thoughts drifted to Callan, who occupied his own chamber down the hall. Nova had apologized to him, but her words felt deficient. Hollow. Pure luck had prevented her from being affected by Idrian’s ability. True, her quick thinking had kept her and Callan alive and ended the immediate threat Idrian posed to them, to Silvergard, and to the Realm at large. Still, she couldn’t escape the feeling that it was a sham when her recklessness had placed them in the situation to begin with.

A swell of emotion filled her chest at the thought of Callan. He had respected her desire to be alone, but she sensed his heart’s desperate call to her own, beckoning her to his side. Unable to withstand it any longer, Nova threw back the sheets and slid out of bed, hurrying out the door and down the hall to Callan’s chamber before she could convince herself to stop.

The Estate was hushed, with the majority of the residents having retired to their chambers for sleep. But she knew she would find Callan awake. That his mind, like hers, had not known rest since they’d returned. She knocked softly on the door and held her breath when he invited her in.

Barefoot and clad only in a pair of black breeches, he sat slouched on the low sofa, his dark hair loose, the ends grazing his shoulders. The sight of his large, solid form seated on the elegant furniture was almost comical, and a smile crept unexpectedly across her face. Relief flooded Callan’s features, his brow relaxing and the tension in his upper body easing in a heartbeat. His mouth quirked up in a smile, a faint dimple flashing on his cheek as he held out a hand to her.

Nova rushed to where he sat, climbing into his lap and tugging at her nightgown to make room for her knees on either side of his long thighs. Wrapping his arms tightly around her torso, he pressed his face against her chest and breathed her in before resting his cheek flat against the space between her breasts. She buried her fingers in his hair and rested her chin on top of his head, exhaling as she melted into him. He was the only answer to a question her soul would never cease asking.

“Your heart’s racing,” he murmured, skimming his hands over her lower back.

Nova hooked a finger under his chin and tilted his face up to hers. He hadn’t shaved since their return. Perhaps he’d been wallowing a bit, too, she thought. The notion was oddly comforting.

“You’ve been hiding from me,” he said, brows pinched once again.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, running the pad of her thumb over the hollow below his bottom lip. “It was foolish to challenge Idrian alone. You tried to warn me—”

“You have nothing to apologize for. I’m sorry, love. I had no right to cut you out of the plan. I was wrong, and I vow never to stand in your way again. I will always stand beside you.”

Callan shook his head, curling his fingers around her wrist and kissing her softly on her palm before gazing up at her solemnly.

“But please promise me the next time you charge headfirst into danger, it won’t be because you think your life doesn’t matter, or the loss of you won’t be felt. Because you mean everything—you are everything—to me, Nova. I need you to understand that. I cannot fathom a world without you in it.”

Nova lifted his hand to her cheek, leaning into his touch. “You were right to worry,” she said. “I wasn’t ready. Idrian could have killed me easily.”

“We should have faced him together, like we’d planned. Don’t you see? If you hadn’t been there . . . if I’d faced him alone, I would have been another body on the pyre. All my training and ability was useless against the power he wielded. You protected me, Nova. You saved me.”

She let out a dry laugh, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “You’ve saved me once or twice.”

Callan’s fingers ghosted up her spine, gently tracing the raised lines of her scars as a low chuckle rumbled in his chest. The sound vibrated deliciously against her stomach.