“Who was the archer?” he asked suddenly, voice cutting through the fog clouding my mind.
I stumbled over my tongue. “I—I don’t really—”
“Did you see his face?”
I shook my head, unable to form words.
He nodded, relief passing through his expression before he slipped his hand through my grip. “One minute.”
He left the kitchen without another word, climbing the stairs with long skips.
I didn’t see him again for the rest of the day.
The next morning, he was gone before I even opened my eyes, and for a fleeting second, I let myself believe he was downstairs, doing what he always did by filling the kitchen with warmth and the smell of food made just for me.
But when I rushed to the kitchen, there was nothing. No food, and not even the faintest trace that it had been used.
Instead of doing anything remotely useful like I’d planned, I wasted the day drowning in my own thoughts, circling them until they made me dizzy and frustrated. What had I done? Was it the way I’d grabbed his hand so quickly? Or was it because I’d seen him heal, witnessing something he clearly didn’t want me to? No, he hadn’t even cared when I found out he didn’t have a shadow. So what was it then? Was it not me at all? Or was I simply prying too much. Or was it just him trying to keep his distance?
By the time evening came, my nerves were frayed, and I couldn’t stay still. I dressed and went walking, dragging myself through the streets where he’d always found me before. Then I waited. And waited. Walked and waited.
Two hours passed, and still no sign of him. Usually, he’d appear, as though he’d always known exactly where I’d be, and we’d walk back to the house together. Tonight, the absence of him punched me straight in the guts.
With a sigh, I shoved my hands into my pockets and started towards the library.
Amelia was behind the desk, as always, smiling at me as I came in. I’d frequented the library enough to be familiar with her, exchanging a little wave and a smile whenever I entered. She was one of the few young faces left in Nimorran, because clearly, everyone else her age had moved out of town to chase bigger opportunities.
I set two books down before her, volumes about one of Nimorran’s oldest legends, one from when the moon itself still walked in a mortal vessel.
“How many days?” she asked.
“One.”
Information was exchanged, and she stamped both books, sliding them to me with a smile. Then I stepped out into the night with the books hugged to my chest.
When I returned home, I made myself dinner—if you could even call it that—before drawing a bath. By the time I tucked myself into bed, an hour deep into the first book, the front door opened.
Every instinct screamed at me to leap up and run to him to demand his reason for this coldness that had been cutting into me since morning. But I didn’t move an inch. Instead, I stayed wrapped in my sheets, knuckles white from gripping them too hard, chaining myself to the bed.
I listened as his heavy footsteps climbed up the wooden steps. Then they paused on the landing, just long enough for me to hold my breath…before vanishing into his room without so much as a knock on my door.
I slammed the book shut, anger rising to my throat. Was that his new game?
Rolling onto my side and away from the door, I faced the window, squeezing my eyes shut.
The next day was the same.
He was gone before sunrise, and there was no breakfast. I wouldn’t even have known he stepped foot in this house if I didn’t hear him come in last night.
I tried to pretend it didn’t matter, to pretend the silence between us didn’t eat at me like rot. I told myself I could stand it, that I couldbreathe without him crashing into my space like he always did. But every time I walked into the kitchen and found it empty, every time I felt his absence, my chest caved a little more.
I lost count of how many times I picked up my phone, staring at the blank message box, torn between typing something and waiting him out.
Evening came, and I went for a walk, but there was no sign of him. I read in the library until dark, and once again, he didn’t return until long after I was buried under my sheets, faking sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
SANORA
