“I cannot deny you,” he said, and when the door swung open, he descended first. His hand reached between them, into the carriage. “Welcome to the great Mothlock Manor, Lux Thorn.”
Lux slipped her hand in his—and promptly lost her breath.
They were too close. She couldn’t possibly take it all in at once. Lux stumbled back against the carriage and stared, her gaze sweeping upward. Black stone stairs ascended to black doors, and onward, to cross-barred windows and a single, peaked tower. Sculpted creatures peered down at her from the highest vantages.
“This is…” Deep-green vines crept partly up the walls, their fingers digging in tight to any cracks. Blue blooms larger than her head were spread stark against the black.
“I know.”
Lux afforded herself a quick glance and found him staring up at the manor’s entrance with something akin to reverence. Butthe roar of the sea was louder now outside the carriage, and she couldn’t be distracted for long. Her gaze swept the garden.
The rather…overgrowngarden. Pale stone paths branched from either side of the courtyard she stood within, tunneling into the reddened briar.But which one leads to the water?
When she asked, Corvin huffed a laugh. “I’ve never met someone so singularly obsessed with the sea.” She stared at him until he relented. “This one,” he said, pointing to their right.
She immediately started toward it, but he gripped her arm. “Remember to mind the plants.”
Lux breathed away the reactive wish to toss his hand off. Instead, she waited until he removed it on his own before nodding and heading into the thicket. Corvin followed behind her—she could hear his soft footfalls—but she kept her eyes trained forward. To the growth lining either side of the pathway, but also on the roar ahead. She could smell the salt stronger here than before, the brine-scent of sea-grown things, and when the first dusting of water peppered her skin, she nearly wept.
So this is what it feels like to live your dream.
The path curved, and Lux stopped, an arched door of dark wood rising to meet her. She glanced over her shoulder, her hand outstretched toward the ring in question, but when Corvin only winked at her, she faced ahead once more and, mindful of the brambles, pulled.
There beneath the stone archway, Lux nearly sank to her knees.
Stone steps and a raging sea. They were so much higher above it than she expected, and it sapped the strength from her legs. She could see indefinitely. Dark cliffs dripped with seaweeds and sea-spray beneath her. Farther out, spears of rock rose from the waves, so drenched they appeared black. It was dramatic and wild—so far removed from any creek, lake, or river, it seemed unreal.
Corvin stopped beside her.
“The steps lead down to the cove. It isn’t safe during certain times of day with the shifting tides, and you mustn’t enter the water here, but otherwise, you can walk the shore. It’s a good place to think and dream.”
“I have no more dreams than this.”
“None?”
She could feel his stare against her profile, but she couldn’t pull her gaze away.Maybe one more,she supposed, and gasped when a great wave crashed below, the windswept spray coating one side of her face.
“What do you dream of?” she asked.
Corvin watched the waves with a thoughtful expression, his brow furrowed. “I’ve not had anyone ask me that, I don’t think. Not for a long time anyway. I suppose I dream of accomplishments. To be the best I can be. To learn as much as I’m able to in this life. And I dream of dreams. I’ve slept without for too long.”
“You can’t dream?”
“No. Not in the traditional way. Not in the way I’d like to.”
Lux studied him, at how well he seemed to fit upon this cliffside, with his hair as light as the sky and the rest of him blended into the dark seascape. To sleep without dreams? Rarely could she recall experiencing it herself.
Most of what’s in my head are nightmares.
“Those are admirable,” she said, just as another—larger—fissure cracked her suspicions.
“So is experiencing what you never have before. I apologize if I implied otherwise. I’ve come to take my home for granted.”
“You didn’t imply.” She extracted her gaze from his and breathed in lungfuls of salt. “The mountains were breathtaking, but treacherous and cold. And the forests I came to, like Ravenwood, were calm and beautiful, nothing like what I’dgrown up with. But this…” She shut her eyes a moment. “Thisspeaks to my soul.”
“Careful,” murmured Corvin. “Or I might have to convince you to stay.”
And before she could think of what those words could mean, she said, “I might let you.”
