Page 67 of Sanctuary of the Shadow
Maybe that feeling was love after all.
What did it matter who he’d once been when he had a new identity now? As far as he was concerned, the past could stay buried forever.
Chapter Fourteen
That night, Harrow couldn’t sleep. Neither could Raith, apparently, since he’d given her a kiss a while ago and then climbed back up to the roof by himself. But that was nothing new.
Raith rarely slept. He liked to guard her at night yet never rested when she was awake. She didn’t think she’d once seen him actually asleep. Every morning when she woke, he was already awake, watching over her. And he would lie beside her and hold her as she fell asleep at night, but he never slept before she did.
Was it some kind of leftover habit from his weeks as a prisoner? Never relaxing enough to fall asleep in the presence of another? She hoped not. She wanted him to feel safe with her—wanted him to trust her the same way she trusted him.
Goddess, she cared for him so much, but there was always this part of him that was unreachable to her, a vast distance in his eyes like a great ocean she couldn’t cross. She longed to, but she didn’t know how, nor did Raith understand it enough to show her the way.
More and more, she was beginning to suspect the answer to crossing that ocean lay in his lost memories.
Unfortunately, from what she’d seen so far, those memories weren’t pleasant. Whenever Harrow asked him questions about his past, he usually responded with “I don’t know,” but occasionally, something would slip out, surprising even him, revealing some insight into what his life had been like.
Not once had those slipups revealed anything good.
Her beautiful, sweet Raith had scars that ran deep. Maybe it was better for him that he didn’t remember. Maybe it was a blessing, a chance to start a new life without being burdened by the traumas of the old.
But she couldn’t shake the feeling that his memories were important. The Water was stirring in her, telling her todig,dig,diguntil she found answers. It kept her restless and agitated.
Which was why she currently sat at the table by the window, shuffling her cards. Only now could she finally admit to herself that she’d been fighting the urge to do another reading on Raith. The last reading she’d done on him hadn’t bothered her much, but now she was dreading it, afraid of what she might learn. Was Raith’s past really that horrible?
But no matter what he’d been through, she was certain it wouldn’t change her feelings about him. Uncovering whatever the Water was nagging at her to uncover was a potentially painful but necessary step forward.
So why was she so resistant to it?
Frustrated with her indecision and her own behavior—fighting the instinct was the number one no-no in the Seer rule book—Harrow pictured Raith in her mind and allowed the Water to rise within. As it often did in his proximity, as soon as she opened its cage a tiny bit, it rushed to the forefront. The air crackled around her, the curtains blowing and condensation forming on the windowpanes. She didn’t feel any threat was near, so why did her power respond in that way?
Yet another reason she needed to do this reading.
With shaking hands, Harrow flipped the first card off the deck and set it faceup on the table.
The Deep.
Heart pounding, she stared at it. The black card with those two words scrawled in her own calligraphic writing seemed to taunt her, luring her into some abyss. Chair scraping back, she leaped to her feet suddenly, setting the cards away from her on the table as if they contained some dark magic.
Whatever the Water wanted to tell her…she wasn’t ready to hear it.
Stuffing the Deep somewhere in the middle of the deck, she went to the bed and lay down on her side. Suddenly cold, she yanked the blankets over her and stared blankly at the wall, still seeing the Deep in her mind’s eye, beckoning her to finish the reading.
The room was dark—her candle had been extinguished in the burst of magic. Raith was still on the roof, and she knew he wouldn’t leave without telling her, because he’d promised in that quiet, intense way of his, and his word bound him. He had willingly fettered himself because he wanted her to trust him.
She wished he would come back inside to hold her but didn’t want to call him in. If he wanted to be alone, he deserved to have the freedom to choose.
Her heart ached. Her eyes blurred with tears. All the while, the image of the Deep wouldn’t leave her head.
Finally, she drifted into an uneasy sleep, hoping to find some peace there.
…
Half an hour or so later, Raith crept back inside through the bedroom window. He felt strangely apprehensive, like some great threat lurked around the corner, but he couldn’t figure out what it was or when it would strike.
Earlier, he’d gone back to the roof alone, feeling some kind of impending isolation about to strike and needing to prepare. Which made no sense because Harrow had kissed him as he left and told him with a beautiful smile that she would await him in their bed. It was all so good, so pure.
Too good and pure for one like you.
