He wants to come back. He knows this is where he belongs. It has to be. What else could draw a wild animal to this place?
A surge of hope traveled through Sarah’s limbs like an electric charge. She remained at the window, watching as Shay left Ariadne near the mansion’s rear entrance. She stayed until the brown wolf bounded away from Rowan Estate, through the garden, and disappeared under the cover of pines.
Though Sarah hadn’t known she was waiting for it, she realized this was the sign she’d needed. A sign that Shay hadn’t forgotten who he really was. That he wanted to return to his family and that he needed her help to do so.
Filled with a new resolve, Sarah turned away from the glass and went to find a Weaver. She had to get back to the Academy as soon as possible. Anika would help. Now that this had happened, how could she pretend that Shay belonged in the woods with those other beasts? How could anyone deny that the boy belonged with his family?
Her son had saved the world. Yet somehow everyone else has forgotten him. Sarah whispered a promise to Shay: “I’m going to make them remember.”
CONNOR ROLLED over and drowsily stretched his arm out to hook Adne around the waist and draw her against his chest. His seeking hand found only rumpled sheets, long bereft of Adne’s warmth. Connor’s body tensed, his chest constricting with disappointment. He rolled onto his back and stared at the night sky that seemed to pour down on him through the crystal ceiling of the Roving Academy.
They never talked about it. How often this happened.
The first few times Adne had stirred in the middle of the night, Connor had woken with her, wanting to reassure her that whatever demons had dragged her from a restful sleep inhabited only the dark recesses of her mind and could do her no harm in the waking world.
Presuming that Adne’s nightmares must be tied to her grief, having so recently lost both her father and a brother she’d just found, Connor had urged Adne to talk about Monroe and Ren. He’d expected reluctance, but Adne didn’t hesitate to share the pain she still felt at Monroe’s absence and her sense of failure when it came to Ren’s death.
And so they’d talked. And talked. So many nights’ sleep interrupted and sunrises greeted with broken memories and tears.
From those conversations, Connor felt confident that Adne was dealing with her grief. At least when it came to Monroe. The blame she wrongly took upon herself about Ren’s death remained a touchy subject, and Connor didn’t press her too hard on the topic. Adne would deal with that loss when she was ready.
They were talking about it. That was a good first step. It was at least something.
But despite that something, which Connor wanted to believe wasn’t a small something, he continued to wake in the middle of the night having lost the lover he’d taken to bed.
Connor tossed out a variety of unsatisfying answers to the puzzle of Adne’s insomnia. Perhaps she’d always been a restless sleeper. After all, only in recent weeks had Connor been in a position to make such observations. Or maybe Adne couldn’t quite get comfortable sleeping in Connor’s room. But anytime he suggested they spend the night in Adne’s room, she insisted that she preferred Connor’s bed to her own.
If she wants to be in my bed so much, why the hell does she always leave?
Chastising himself for what he deemed a selfish reaction, Connor sat up and rubbed sleep from his eyes. Adne didn’t always leave. But more and more nights Connor woke to find her gone.
He wasn’t angry about it—admittedly he sometimes indulged a burr of resentment—but Connor was afraid for Adne. Something was off and he couldn’t pin down what it was. The more he tried to coax Adne into revealing the source of her restlessness, the more reticent she became.
Throwing the covers back, Connor swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He grabbed the T-shirt he’d tossed on the back of a chair, pulled it over his head, and went to look for Adne.
The halls of the Roving Academy were shadowed and silent as Connor padded through the Haldis living quarters. Even as he approached Adne’s door, Connor wondered if he shouldn’t turn around and go back to bed. Adne had always been independent. Maybe he was crowding her. And wouldn’t stalking after her in the middle of the night push her to seek even more space from him? What if she simply needed to come and go as she pleased? Maybe nothing was wrong at all and Connor just couldn’t handle how much he wanted Adne with him. Every day. Every night. Every moment. Every breath.
Standing in front of her door, Connor’s fists clenched. He’d begun to suspect that his long avoidance of a romantic entanglement with Adne had been for none of the reasons he’d claimed. Not the seven-year age difference between them. Not that Adne’s father had been Connor’s commander. Not the risk of loving someone in a life filled with violence and loss.
No. Connor realized that all of those rational explanations crumbled upon close examination. The truth was here. This visceral need that held him hostage; the need for her voice, her touch, her scent. For all that was Adne.
Somehow, despite all his denials, Connor had known that once he let Adne take hold of him—heart and flesh—that it would be like that. That there would only be her for the rest of his life.
If that wasn’t scary as hell, Connor didn’t know what was.
And now that Adne slipped from his arms more nights than she stayed, Connor had begun to fear that it was too much for her.
“Are you trying to open the door with the power of your mind?”
Connor had been so consumed by his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed Sabine approaching.
“Because as far as I’m aware, the Force isn’t a real thing.” Sabine smiled at him, though her brow was slightly furrowed, revealing concern.
“I know.” Connor pushed his hair back from his forehead, giving a little laugh. “It’s disappointing, isn’t it? I just have to check every so often to be sure.”
Sabine kept smiling, but her eyes narrowed. “Seriously, though. What’s up?”
Connor ground his teeth. He’d been trying to get Adne to talk about her frequent disappearing acts, but he hadn’t told anyone else about it.
“You lose something?” Sabine glanced at the closed door.
Knowing that Sabine wasn’t going to let him off, Connor said, “She wasn’t there when I woke up. Just want to see if she’s okay.”
“Fair enough.” Sabine shrugged. “But I’m surprised she’s not with you. From what Adne’s told me, you’ve got some serious talent between the sheets.”