Page 52 of Sun, Moon & Shadow (Fate of Aemoria #1)

The journey back to the capital passed in a hazy blur punctuated by the sensation of his insides being ripped apart.

Though the pain tearing at Callan’s side was excruciating, it paled in comparison to the uncertainty and fear he had felt not knowing if Nova was alive.

He would have died happily, knowing he’d brought her to safety.

Now that he lay convalescing in a comfortable bed within the Silvergard Estate, Callan was very glad he wasn’t dead.

Nova’s uncle kept the territory’s best healer in residence—a short, wizened female with black curls streaked with white and fingers like gnarled tree roots.

The crone, called Eir, finished what Nova had started, cleaning Callan’s wound and encouraging the edges to join and scar over.

After only a few hours of uninterrupted sleep, he felt much improved, but Eir ordered him to remain in bed and rest for several days more.

Not likely , he thought.

If the general and what remained of his guard were still hiding out near Schadwen Mountain, Callan intended to return and finish what he’d started.

To punish them all for what they’d done.

He needed only to consult with Lucan to devise a plan.

They couldn’t allow Idrian to escape, free to plan another attempt on Nova’s life. Another plot to seize the Lunar Throne.

Callan heaved his legs over the side of the bed, wincing at the twinge of pain in his side.

He raised his right arm above his head and looked down, running his fingers along the fresh scar.

The healer had washed him with a cloth and a basin of warm water, but he was eager to soak his sore muscles in the bath.

Callan limped carefully into the adjoining bathing chamber.

As soon as he entered the room, he was struck with an uncanny sense that he had been there before.

He filled the black stone soaking tub with hot water and lowered himself beneath the surface.

His sizable frame sent water sloshing over the edge to pool on the polished stone floor, his kneecaps peeking out from underneath the water.

Draping his arms over the sides of the tub, he tipped his head back and closed his eyes.

Despite all that had happened in such a short period of time, the one thing his mind kept returning to again and again was that kiss, soft but crackling with intensity.

Had Nova simply gotten carried away in the moment, overcome with relief at saving him?

Gods, he hoped not. He hoped she was ready to acknowledge the thread stretching between them.

Even if she wasn’t, Callan knew he would wait as long as it took.

For the rest of his days if it came to it.

A short time later, he sat on the edge of the bed drying his hair with a soft towel, clad only in a fresh pair of breeches. A quiet knock came at the chamber door an instant before it opened. Callan expected to see the healer coming to check on him, but he found Nova standing in his room instead.

Nova needed to see him.

More than she’d ever needed anything in her life.

As soon as they had arrived back at the Estate, Callan had been carried off to be treated by an expert healer. Twice Nova attempted to visit his chamber, but the stern female shooed her away.

Callan’s brush with death, and her own, for that matter, had solidified something within her: a depth of feeling she hadn’t known was possible. One impossible to deny.

She desperately needed to see him.

And so, Nova waited patiently in her own room for the healer to leave Callan’s, noting Eir’s distinctive footsteps as they slowly shuffled past her door.

After forcing herself to wait several more minutes, she slipped out into the corridor and rushed down the hall to Callan’s chamber, her robe and unbound hair trailing behind her.

Nova knocked softly and eased the door open to find Callan sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless and running a towel over his damp hair.

His head snapped up at the sound of the latch, and he stood immediately when he saw her, wincing slightly, his hand going reflexively to his side.

Relief flooded his features, and his eyes fell shut.

Nova’s heart swelled almost painfully in her chest at the sight of him.

Alive .

Callan’s long strides erased the distance between them, but he stopped just in front of her.

“You’re alive.” Her voice wavered as she met the heat radiating off his body, her eyes dancing over his bare chest and shoulders. Brown skin marked here and there with the faint scars of long-healed wounds.

“I feared I would never see you again,” he murmured. “That I wouldn’t get the chance to apologize.”

“What for?”

“For kissing you. In Nivali. It was wrong of me—”

“Callan.” She took hold of his hands. “I kissed you first.”

“I know. It was kind of you to offer me comfort, but I took it too far. The next day, you were angry with me. I apologize.”

“I wasn’t angry with you. I was ...” Nova inhaled a steadying breath. “Afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“The night we argued ...” She paused, distracted by both the memory of the first kiss they’d shared and Callan’s full lips hovering so close hers. “Liv told me we are connected. You and I. That the threads of our lives are woven together.”

“And this frightened you?” His forehead creased as a faint smile crept across his face.

“It did. It does. Though I've tried to drown it out, I feel you . . . calling to me somehow. When my mind races and my emotions threaten to consume me, your words and your touch soothe me. Gods, how I crave your touch.” Her breath ran out, and she inhaled shakily. “And yes, that frightened me because I knew someday, I would lose you. As I’ve lost everyone else.”

Nova attempted to swallow, her throat suddenly as dry as the midnight dunes surrounding the Estate. Her skin was hot, blood racing in her veins. She was both terrified he might not feel as strongly for her and exhilarated at the thought that he might.

“After all that’s happened, I realized nothing could be more frightening than losing you without getting the chance to love you first. And I do, Callan.” She tilted her face up to his, focusing on his mouth, too nervous to meet his eyes. “I love you.”

Callan laid his hand on her neck, brushing his thumb over her pulse, thrumming beneath the sensitive skin of her throat.

“Nova,” he murmured, a wide smile spreading across his lips and revealing the dimple on his cheek.

“I’ve been drawn to you since the very first night I met you.

I should have known it was love I felt the moment Thorn’s guards raised their blades, because I knew then that I would do anything, give anything, even my own life, for you. ”

He bent his head and kissed her then, softly at first, her lips melting into his as she lifted her hands to his broad shoulders.

Tilting her head back, she eagerly opened her mouth to him, deepening the kiss.

The velvety swipe of his tongue against hers sent a rush of desire between her thighs.

The kiss grew possessive. Urgent. His tongue questing farther into her mouth, as desperate to be inside her as she was to have him there.

Breaking the kiss, Callan slid his hands to her chest. He traced his fingertips lightly over the smooth fabric of her robe, which hung open, revealing a strip of pale skin between her breasts.

Nova ran her hands from his shoulders to his biceps, muscles rigid beneath her fingers. She looked up into his face. His jaw was clenched, his brow creased. She could see he was holding himself back, restraining his desire until he was certain she wanted them to come together as much as he did.

“You never have to hide from me. You never have to hold back,” she murmured. “Put your hands on me, Callan.”

Every muscle in her own body tensed with the anticipation of finally getting what she had been denying herself for months. She wore nothing under her robe; she had wanted this to happen.

Callan eagerly obliged her, sliding his fingers beneath the robe and pushing the fabric aside.A low groan escaped his lips at the sight of her breasts, and he immediately took them in his hands.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he said, his voice a reverent whisper.

Pressing his forehead against hers, he kneaded her breasts, pinching her pale pink nipples between his fingers.

Nova moaned softly at his rough hands on her skin, a sensation she’d imagined countless times before.

Her fingertips found the firm cord of muscle running from his neck to his shoulder, her fingernails digging in, earning a sultry smile from him.

She let her head fall back as he lavished her throat and chest with soft kisses and warm swipes of his tongue.

Callan glided his hands down her back, cupping her ass and lifting her into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist, relishing the feeling of his firm chest against the smooth softness of her own.

Carrying her to the bed, he laid her on top of the bedsheets then leaned over her, untying the sash at her waist. He took his time laying the robe open around her as if he were unwrapping a gift.

Callan knelt between her legs, sitting back on his heels.

His eyes were shadowed through half-mast lids as they traveled along the curves of her naked body.

One hand went to his lap, gripping the obvious swell barely contained behind his breeches.

Nova shuddered. She had bared her heart to him, and now she lay before him, her body completely bare as well.