Page 52 of Shatter the Dark
“That’s right. How could I forget? But what about the ending? Do they all live happily ever after?”
“Is that your story demand?”
She shook her head, and the smile slipped from her lips. Moving toward the hearth, she splayed her fingers over the flames, soaking up the warmth. “I always skip the end of the story. Who really lives happily ever after? It’s something we tell children to shield them from the horrors of the world.”
I painstakingly shifted Annie to the chair, doing my best not to wake her. I shouldn’t have worried. It seemed my brief attempt at a bedtime story had knocked her out cold. I joined Liana by the hearth. She let me wrap my arms around her, and she rested her head against my shoulder, staring at the flames.
“Do you really believe that?” I asked.
She exhaled long and slow. “I don’t know anymore. I’ve started to think maybe it’s the horrors that earn us our happily ever after. Maybe it’s the only way to tell if we deserve one or not.”
The snap and crack of the flames filled in the void created by our silence. I wasn’t sure how to respond or if she even wanted me to. A long moment passed before she gestured toward Annie.
“Do you want me to take her?”
“No. I’ll take her back to her room. Who knows? She might wake up and demand a story about mermaids. I’ll have to be ready.”
Liana furrowed her brow. “Do you know any stories about mermaids?”
“Not one.” I dropped a kiss on her forehead and went to retrieve Annie. I picked her up and slung her blanket over my shoulder. Lowering my voice so as not to wake her, I said, “Tomorrow, Gavin and I will pick up the search where we left off. We’re going to find them. I promise.”
“I don’t know how to thank you for everything you’ve done. I know things started rocky with my father, and I—”
“Don’t thank me, Liana.” A fresh wave of guilt pricked my conscience.
She nodded and whispered goodnight. With her misplaced praise ringing in my ears, I escaped into the hallway.
Soon. I’ll tell her the truth soon. Just not tonight.
Chapter 20
Liana
Itiptoed down the dark hallway toward my room, thankful, for the first time in my life, for the shadows that masked the silly grin on my face. Watching Bowen attempt to tell Annie a bedtime story was not the scene I expected to walk into when I went to check on how the search had gone and say goodnight, but it was one I was glad I didn’t miss.
It was strange to think about stories again. After all these years, I never expected I might get an ending to the events from my past. It always seemed as if it would remain this open-ended thing that happened to me with no real closure. Even though I’d moved on the best I could, that lack of closure, the not knowing, made it difficult to find peace.
We were all looking for closure in our own ways. Bowen was still struggling to find himself after the pain inflicted upon him, and even—
I blinked, squinting down the shadowed hallway. Was that Gavin?
At the far end of the hall, I spotted a figure turning the corner. The faint glow of a lantern illuminated Gavin’s grim features as he headed toward the east wing. There wasn’t anything of interest in that direction besides the glass-enclosed training room, and I wondered why he would go up there so late at night.
Pausing outside my room, I remembered his blunt words from the other day. It felt as if the message had come out of nowhere, but maybe it hadn’t. He was obviously a loyal friend to Bowen and was concerned about our growing relationship. I wasn’t sure I could blame him. The last thing I expected was to develop feelings for Bowen MacKenzie, and the same question of what would happen when it was time for me to go home had plagued my thoughts. Still, if he thought I was using Bowen, seducing him for my own purpose, I wasn’t sure I was okay with that.
Bypassing my room, I followed him up to the domed training area.
Moonlight shimmered through the glass panes, washing the room in silver. Gavin stood facing the sea, completely motionless. His gaze seemed fixed on the horizon. In his hand was a glass bottle filled halfway with a ruby liquid. An odd choice since he always favored whiskey or rum.
He popped the cork and took a swig, then he held the bottle at an angle, almost as if he were toasting the horizon. I moved closer, my feet silent on the polished floor, and watched as he removed a small object from his pocket. He held it in his open palm, and at first, I thought it was a stone, but upon closer inspection, I realized it was smoother and slightly translucent. A victim of the waves, tossed until the edges had been refined and the surface given a frosted sheen.
Sea glass.
I’d only come across glass like that a few times before, and it had always surprised me to see the way nature exerted its force, turning something sharp and jagged into an almost velvety work of art. I supposed time and the right conditions had a way of doing that.
Still oblivious to my presence, Gavin rubbed the sea glass between his fingers, then he closed it in his fist. His head dropped to his chest, and the bottle hung limply from his hand.
“Gavin,” I murmured, afraid I’d startle him.