“There are no portals, Noah,” she sighed wearily.
He moved closer, gently brushing her shoulder. “Then swear to me, on this special place and all that you hold dear that you have no knowledge of your father, or anyone else, visiting distant worlds. No knowledge of the origin of the strange and unexplainable items in the Citadel. And that you don’t wonder yourself how they got here.”
When she looked up at him, her face illuminated by starlight, he saw the glisten of tears in her eyes. “I admit wondering about the curiosities my father brings home. Where he obtains some of the things he has. But I swear to you, I have no knowledge of portals, or passages, or secret magic tricks that take anyone from this world to another. And even if I had a sister who needed what this world couldn’t provide, which unfortunately, I—do not,” her voice broke over the last words, “I couldn’t save her any more than you can save Emily.”
Tears glistened on her lashes as she turned to leave.
Noah caught her arm. “Skye.” The word was barely a whisper, but held all the emotion he wasn’t free to voice. Slowly, gently, he held her gaze, watching the play of emotions cross her face as he pulled her back to him until they were as close as they’d been in the alcove. But this time, he slipped his arms around her and, before he could think better of it, lowered his mouth to hers.
Her body was soft and yielding and her lips met his without hesitation. He kept the kiss light and tender at first, but it wasn’t enough, not for either of them, it seemed. She was a baffling mix of shyness and eagerness until, with a muffled whimper, she raised up on her toes to slide her arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. He clasped her even tighter as her lips parted,allowing him to lead her further, deeper, until finally, for both their sakes, he forced himself to pull away.
“Skye—” he gasped.
She pressed her fingers to his lips. “Don’t. Please don’t say you’re sorry. I’ve wanted you to kiss me from the first day I saw you at the gate.”
He held her close, sure she could feel his heart pounding against his chest and hear his ragged breathing, so there was no need denying the effect their kiss had on him. “It was a liberty I had no right to take, given the circumstances.”
He welcomed the chill mountain air that swept across his heated skin, bringing with it the tang of pine and something wilder, the hint of untamed places and…possibilities. But not for him. For him, there was only one direction. One possibility. One outcome he could allow himself to consider.
The wind caught the mournful cry of a night bird far below, and the whisper of wind through the fortress crenellations that sounded almost like distant voices. Voices that told him he was out of place and time and had no right to make or even insinuate a relationship in this world when the only goal he could consider would be to leave it, and her, behind.
She pulled back far enough to look into his eyes, but stayed within the circle of his arms.
Studying her beautiful face, softened by starlight and shadow, her lips slightly swollen from their kiss, Noah could find no hint of the hard-edged Keeper’s daughter he’d first met.
“What circumstances?” she asked. “Beyond doing what’s possible for Emily, of course? If the healers can help her, will you stay while she recovers? And if she recovers, will you go back to your home? And,” she pressed a hand to his chest, fingering the ties of his leather shirt, “if she does not,” she barely whispered, “what then?”
He knew what she wanted to hear. He released her and turned to look out at the mountains. Why couldn’t he just lie to her? His fingers traced a pattern in the lichens that clung to the stone parapet, their rough texture grounding him in the moment. The stone leached the warmth from his hands, mirroring the chill that spread through his body at the thought of Emily fighting for each breath back in Havenwood, or the struggles she might be enduring in the quest to bring her here.
A gust of wind swept across the tower, carrying with it a bite of frost from the distant peaks, raising goosebumps along his arms.
“I don’t want to lie to you, Skye.”
“Then don’t.” Her voice sounded broken.
He turned to stare into her intense gaze. She hadn’t bothered to mask her hope or her vulnerability, making his thoughts even harder to voice. “I care about you, Skye. That’s God’s truth. I want very much to know everything about you. To see…where this might lead. But I won’t deny I also want something else from you. From this place. And it’s clear I can’t have both.” The words left a bitter taste on his tongue, an admission of his divided heart. “And I’m afraid that clouds everything else.”
“You still believe there are portals here,” she whispered.
“Yes. I have to. I know they exist. I came through one. Everyone in Havenwood has. Including Austin. They’re as real as…” he paused and looked at the disappointment etched on her face, “…as how much I want to make you believe I care for you. How much I wish you felt the same and we were free to talk about tomorrow and beyond. And how my heart shatters knowing from experience that all we have is right now, this minute, that we can count on. There isn’t time to wait-and-see, or for subtleties or secrets.”
She shifted closer, the warmth of her arm against his, a stark contrast to the night’s chill. “I understand you have your reality,Noah. And I hope you can understand I have mine. And the only thing we seem able to agree on is that they’re literally worlds apart. But I want you to know despite that, I do trust that you believe what you believe.”
Her voice held no judgment, only a quiet sadness and understanding that made his throat tighten painfully. “Wanting to save someone you love doesn’t make you wrong or untrustworthy. It makes you human.” She laid her head against his shoulder. “I’m sorry I can’t help you. But I do trust that you believe you’re doing the right thing.”
The simplicity of her words, the acceptance in them, made something crack open inside his chest, a fissure in the wall he’d built around his heart since that terrible night five years ago when he and Emily had been torn from everything they knew.
“Then I need to ask you something.” He chose his words carefully as she shivered, and he wrapped his arms around her to warm her, hoping she’d stay after he finished. “And I need you to be honest.”
Her eyes met his, steady in the darkness, reflecting pinpoints of starlight. Strands of her loose hair blew across her face and she tucked them behind her ears with fingers that trembled slightly from the cold, or perhaps something else. “Ask.”
“Your father,” Noah began, feeling his way through the question like a man crossing thin ice, the words forming wisps of mist between them. “Have you ever wondered if he might be keeping things from you? Important things?”
Skye’s gaze didn’t waver, but something shifted in her expression, a flicker of doubt perhaps? But in whom? Him? Or her father? The muscles in her jaw tightened, and he noticed the small pulse point visible at her temple. “Are you asking that to press your point about the portals?”
Her voice was barely audible over the distant shriek of a night bird.
“I’m asking because nothing about this place makes sense.” Noah gestured to the fortress below them. “The artifacts that seem to come from nowhere, from no craft or skill I’ve ever seen. The way he keeps you isolated, protected from... what, exactly? The way people come seeking help, like us, and are turned away.” He leaned closer and dropped his voice to a whisper, creating a small space of warmth between them. “And you, you’re too intelligent not to have noticed the inconsistencies.”
