Page 114 of Sanctuary of the Shadow
Raith drained two more flasks of water before he was strong enough to stand again. From there, Harrow helped him into her caravan. He fell straight into her bed, asleep before his head hit the pillow.
She directed her exhausted horse to the nearest oasis—a Seer who drew her magic from the Water could always sense a nearby source. She tied Fiona to a tree beside the spring so she could drink at leisure and keep cool in the shade, and then she went back into her caravan.
Raith was awake, sitting up in bed, already looking stronger than before. Feeling somewhat awkward, especially knowing how much explaining she had to do, Harrow busied herself opening the windows and door to let fresh air in. The inside of the caravan was stuffy, and though it was hot outside, too, a gentle breeze blew through and brought relief.
All the while, Raith watched her closely.
When she could find nothing else to do, she took a seat on the chair by the bed. “Would you like some more water?”
He shook his head. His skin was still midnight shadows, and she realized that he’d changed its color before only because of others’ negative reactions to it. Something Harrow would never do. Black, brown, that brilliant orange he’d once turned… She didn’t care what he looked like.
He was here, alive and well, in her caravan. Finally.
And now it was time to tell him who he was.
“You don’t know me anymore,” she began, “but I know you. I’ll start at the beginning, I guess. Your name is Raith. Well, that’s the name you chose. When we first met, you didn’t have a name. You see, Salizar had asked Loren to paint a sign—” She shook her head quickly. “Never mind. That’s not important right now. Just know that your name is Raith. With an R, not a W.”
“Raith,” he repeated, exactly how he’d said it the day they met.
“Yes.” She smiled. “And my name is Harrow.”
“Harrow.” His face softened slightly. “Harrow.” He appeared to enjoy saying her name.
Her heart felt like it would burst. “And we are… Well, we— I—” How could she say this? Her cheeks were already flaming, and she hadn’t even managed a complete sentence. Finally, she gritted her teeth and just spat it out.
“We’re in love.”
His eyes widened. He looked so utterly shocked, she might have laughed had she not been busy trying to hide her embarrassment.
“Or at least we were in love. Before.”
Now, he looked stricken.
“No, I didn’t mean we don’t— I just meant— We still love each other. Or rather I still love you, and I think you would’ve felt the same before you forgot me.”
Now he just looked confused. Great. She was doing an excellent job bungling this up. “Let me just start at the beginning, okay? I’ll tell you everything, and then you can ask me any questions at the end.”
So Harrow started at the beginning. She told him about how they’d met at Salizar’s circus and how they had escaped. And when she told him about their nights in the room above the tavern, her cheeks burned so badly she was forced to skip the details. By the look on Raith’s face, however, he knew what she was talking about. And finally, she told him about coming after him in the desert.
And…glazed over the rest.
She lied.
Well, it wasn’t actually lying. She just…dodged the truth a bit. But his eyes were as wide as saucers, and she’d just dragged the poor man inside, and surely, she could give him a little respite before burdening him with the dark details of their twisted pasts?
“So what do you think?” she asked when she finally finished sharing their incomplete story. Guilt niggled at her, but she pushed it aside for now.
He cocked his head in that feral way of his. “The most beautiful female in the world just told me she loves me. I think I’m not so foolish as to question my good fortune.”
Happiness burned so fiercely in her chest it was nearly unbearable. Her smile was so huge, her face ached. She scoffed to hide the depth of her pleasure. “You don’t remember anyone else. How can you know I’m the most beautiful?”
“I know.”
Their eyes met. Stayed locked.
“Will you come closer?” he asked quietly. “So I can see you better?”
She practically ran to his side, all but throwing herself at him.Easy, Harrow. He doesn’t remember you.She forced herself to sit beside him on the bed rather than climbing into his lap. Their gazes met again. Connection sparked between them, as powerful as magic.
