Page 66 of Sanctuary of the Shadow
He might have suggested flying, but he remembered the look on her face when she’d seen his wings for the first time, and he decided against it. He didn’t want to remind her of traits he had that made her wary of him.
The climb was a nearly effortless task, yet when he let her down on the roof, Harrow was wide-eyed with excitement. “That was amazing!”
He allowed himself a satisfied smile.
They lay side by side on the flat surface and stared up at the twinkling stars. The sky was clear tonight, and even the nearly full moon failed to dim their brilliance.
“Do you know how to read the stars?” Harrow asked, snuggling against him as he wrapped an arm around her.
He shook his head.
“The Seers used to navigate by them. See that bright one there?” She pointed, and Raith leaned in to follow her gaze. “That’s the tip of the Tidal Wave.” She traced the stars with her finger. “That’s the top curve of the wave. And there’s the bottom. The Wave always faces the west. If you can find the constellation, you can always orient yourself. My mother taught me to look for it so that if I was ever lost, I would know the direction of our homeland.”
“Your mother loved you,” Raith guessed, still trying to understand the concept.
“Yes, she did.” There was such a pang of sadness in her voice that Raith felt that pain in his chest again. “She used to tell me what a blessing I was. Elemental children are very rare, you see. I think because we live for so long, nature has made it so we don’t reproduce the way humans can, or we would overpopulate the world. I was the first Seer child in a century.”
“She wanted to protect you because she loved you,” Raith guessed again. This seemed to be a quality of love.
“Yes, she did.” There was even more sadness in her words now, and Raith almost regretted encouraging her to speak about this when it seemed to pain her so. Yet there was nostalgia as well, as though she enjoyed the topic despite the grief it caused her.
“I feel very blessed to have had a mother who loved me so much,” Harrow said, “even if I had to lose her too early.”
“Your father?”
“I never knew him. My mother told me she had a fling with the odd man here and there, never expecting she’d actually get pregnant. Though she never determined who my father was for sure, she always suspected it was this one man from the South, since my skin was darker than hers. She used to tell me stories about him and said he was the kindest man she’d ever met. I think she secretly loved him.” Harrow sighed wistfully. “I wonder if she would have looked for him once I got older. I was only ten years old when she was killed.”
Killed.Along with her entire family, leaving little Harrow all alone in the world. Raith’s arm tightened around her. “I want to destroy whoever hurt you.”
“Me too,” Harrow said, but there was no wrath in her tone as there was in his. As if she’d long ago accepted defeat and now considered it a futile desire.
Raith begged to differ.
“You have no memories of your mother?” Harrow asked, changing the subject as if she sensed the violent direction of his thoughts.
“No.” But he was suddenly certain that if he did, they wouldn’t be good ones.
“What about your childhood?”
“No.” The concept of childhood felt foreign, even more vague than the concept of love. He doubted he’d ever experienced such a thing.
“I’m sorry. Everyone should have those memories to help them get through difficult times.”
“I don’t think they would be good memories for me.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know.”
She sighed. “I don’t know” was always how Raith answered inquiries into his past. He couldn’t help it. He genuinely didn’t know. He only had certain impulses or senses that things had once been a certain way. Just as his aversion to being bound by his words made him certain he’d been trapped before, he was also certain he’d had no mother or childhood—or at least not the classic definition of the two. But he didn’t know anything beyond that.
In all honesty, he didn’t care to know, either. He was…happy now.
Though he’d never imagined he could say such a thing, it was true. He was happy and didn’t care to mourn what might have been denied him in the past, just as long as his future continued in the current trend of the present.
In the present, he lay with the most beautiful woman in the world in his arms. He was strong and capable and confident he could defend her from any threat. At night, and during the day, too, she welcomed him into her body, crying out his name—a name he’d chosen for himself—as she found her release.
He decided he could go anywhere, do anything, as long as he continued to have those blessings. If he could always be Harrow’s protector, he could always find happiness.
