Verum (The Nocte Trilogy, #2)(11)

“Is there someone else living here?” I ask suddenly, and Eleanor looks up from her fruit.

“Pardon me?” she raises her eyebrow.

“Earlier,” I explain. “I was restless so I went for a walk outside. There was a guy out there in a hoodie. He seemed out of place.”

Dare and Eleanor exchange a glance.

“What did he look like?” Dare asks me quietly, his eyes frozen on mine.

I shrug. “I couldn’t see his face, he had his hood up. He was young, though. Sort of skinny.”

Silence.

Finally, Dare clears his throat. “There’s no one else here, Calla. Aside from Jones and Sabine, we have a groomsman for the stable, but he’s an elderly man. There is a gardening team, but they come here early in the morning before anyone is out of bed.”

“Then who was it?” I ask, confused, and a bit afraid.

Dare stares at me. “Maybe you just thought you saw someone.”

I flush, because of my recent history, it’s no wonder they don’t believe me. The heat spreads to my chest, and I fight the urge to fan myself.

“I… maybe,” I finally agree.

I’m jet-lagged. I’m tired. I’m overwhelmed. It’s quite possible that I hadn’t seen him at all. Because I’d also thought my room was growling.

“I hate this place,” I mutter to myself when we’re finally released. Dare overhears me and increases his long strides so he catches up to me.

“It’s not that bad,” he tells me. “It’s what you make of it, as long as you never let your guard down.”

I glance at him, and God, I miss him.

We pass in front of a window and the moonlight bathes his face, and I want to touch his lips with my fingers.

He walks me to my room.

“Tell me more about the guy you saw outside,” he says softly, and his fingers find mine. They wrap around my hand, warm and familiar, and I want to close my eyes.

“No,” I finally answer. “You’re right. My eyes were probably playing tricks on me. I was really tired.”

Dare’s gaze is doubtful. Concerned.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” he asks, and his tone is hopeful.

Everything in me screams to say yes, to let him hold me until I sleep, to soak up his familiarity and warmth, but I shake my head because my heart is still afraid.

And there must be a reason why.

“That’s ok. You don’t need to babysit me. I’m ok, Dare. I promise.”

It’s a lie.

I’m not.

But he can’t make it better.

He cocks his head.

“Dare, I… I need some space.”

“Some space?”

I nod. “Yeah. I need to come to grips with things, to wrap my head around… Finn, and you, and I … I need space.”

There’s silence, and the air is charged and I ache to fold into him, to let him hold all of my fears at bay, but I can’t. I can’t be weak. Something big, bigger than me, depends on it. I just don’t know what yet.

He finally nods. “Ok. I’ll give you some space. If you need me, text me and I’ll be here in two minutes.”

I nod and he bends, pressing his lips to my forehead. I don’t shirk away.

After he leaves me, I enter my lonely bedroom and sit on my lonely bed and inhale the lonely air.

“I miss you, Finn,” I breathe aloud. Because he always ‘got me’, no matter what. I never had to explain, I never had to elaborate. Things could go unspoken.

It was a twin thing.

But now he’s gone and I’m alone.

It’s not a comfortable place, to be a half without a whole.

I glance around my room. It’s large and expansive and the chair in front of the windows beckons me, and I slouch into it, pulling my knees to my chest, picking back up Jane Eyre.

Below me, outside, the English moors roll on for miles, yawning across the perimeter of Whitley. Whitley is so similar to Thornfield Hall that Charlotte Bronte could’ve written her book from my windows.

As I watch, fog rises up from the ground, shrouding everything in mist.

It’s just when I’m glancing away to read my book that I see the movement.

I fixate again on the moors.

Focusing harder, I wait for it, almost expecting to see the mysterious man from earlier.

But it’s Dare.

He walks along the path from the gardens, gliding along in the night, his stride wide and familiar.

Then he stops.

He must feel me staring at him because he looks up.

He turns his dark head and his gaze finds me.

It’s as though he can see me watching, all the way from the stable.

His eyes are blacker than night, and he has found me.

His gaze is hot and I close my eyes, my breathing shallow.

When I open them, he’s gone.

But the strange feeling, the odd thought, lingers with me.

He’s dangerous.

I’m unsafe.

And he has found me.

What a strange thought.

But then again, I’m a strange girl.





* * *



Breakfast and lunch are just as formal and uncomfortable at Whitley as dinner is.

After a morning of sitting uncomfortably alone, I manage to slip away without Sabine noticing. She’s been watching me, and I fear that she’s waiting for her chance to pin me down, to talk to me more about my mother.