Lux (The Nocte Trilogy, #3)(13)

“Why does it have to be right?” I sniff. “Who decides what is right and not right, anyway?”

Finn rolls his eyes before he covers his head back up with his covers. “Mom does. Besides, you have me. I’m all you need, Calla.”

I can’t argue with that.

So I drop it. Soon I hear Finn’s even breaths, signaling me that he’s asleep.

I lie still, watching the shadows move across the ceiling. I’m not scared when Finn is here, which probably really is dumb. I heard Jones telling Sabine that Finn couldn’t beat his way out of a wet paper bag, but that’s only because he hasn’t hit a growth spurt yet. Regardless, I know he’d die trying to protect me. Somehow, that’s comforting and morbid at the same time.

I close my eyes.

And when I do, all I can see is Dare’s face.

Dark hair, dark eyes, stubborn glare.

I love him.

He’s mine.

Or he’ll be mine someday. I know it in my heart, as sure as I know my name is Calla Elizabeth Price.

I sleep to the sounds of the moors…the wind, the dark, the silence, the growls. The moors here at Whitley growl, although no one else seems to notice. At first I thought it was Castor, but it’s not. He’d never growl at me. But the moors do.

After the morning sun wakes me up, I pull some clothes on and dash down to the kitchens, hoping to see him before breakfast.

“Is Dare here?” I ask as Castor and I skid around the corner. Sabine eyes me from beneath her scarf as she hands me a croissant.

“Shh, child. I think I saw him slip outdoors.”

She’s quiet so that no one will overhear her. I tell her thank you over my shoulder and head for the grounds, because that’s where Dare likes to be. He hates the house, and he hates most of the people inside.

But he doesn’t hate me.

Even though I’m only eight and he’s eleven. I know this because he told me.

I race down the paths, over the cobbles and between the gates of the secret garden with my dog on my heels. I watch for Dare above the flowers, beneath the massive angel statues, and I finally see him sitting on the edge of a pond, his dark eyes thoughtful as he skips a rock across the glassy surface.

“You’re not supposed to be out here,” I tell him tentatively as I approach. He barely glances up.

“So go tell Eleanor.”

His tone is sullen as he mentions my grandmother, but I’m used to that.

My mother said his lot in life has left him grumpy, that I’m to be patient.

I’m more than patient.

I live for every word out of his mouth.

I sit next to him, and even though I try, none of my rocks skip. They just fall heavily into the water.

Wordlessly, Dare reaches over and adjusts my hand, making me flick my wrist as I toss the stone. I watch it skip once, twice, three times before it sinks.

I smile.

“What does ‘lot in life’ mean?” I ask him curiously.

His eyes narrow.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because my mom said you’re grumpy because of your lot in life. But I don’t know what that means.”

Dare seems to turn pale, and he looks away and I think I’ve made him mad.

“It’s not your business,” he snaps. “You’re supposed to be learning how to be a good Savage. And a good Savage doesn’t pry.”

I gulp, because Lord knows I’ve heard Grandmother Eleanor say that a million times.

“But what does it mean?” I ask after a few minutes, ever persistent.

Dare sighs heavily and gets to his feet. He stares into the distance for a minute before he answers.

“It means your place in the world,” his words are heavy. “And mine sort of sucks.”

“So change it,” I tell him simply, because it seems simple enough to me.

Dare snorts. “You don’t know anything,” he tells me wisely. “You’re just a kid.”

“So are you.”

“But I’m older.”

I can’t argue with that.

“Can I hold your hand?” I ask him as we make our way out of the gardens. “I forgot my shoes and I don’t want to fall on the stones.”

I’m lying. I just want to hold his hand.

He’s hesitant and he seems a bit repelled, but he glances up toward the house, then reluctantly lets me cling to his fingers.

“You’ve got to be more responsible, Calla,” he advises me with a sidelong look toward my bare feet. But he lets me hold his hand as we slowly make our way back to the house. He shakes off my fingers before we open the doors.

“See you at dinner.”

I watch the house swallow him up before I follow him in.

As I walk down the hallway, I can’t help but glance over my shoulder every once in a while because even the sunshine can’t keep the shadows away at Whitley. Something always seems to be watching me, hovering around me.

Always.

When I find Finn in the library, I tell him that.

He shakes his head, annoyed, yet clearly concerned. Like always.

“Have you taken your pills today, Calla?”

“Yes.” If I don’t, I see monsters.

I see red-eyed demons and black-eyed serpents.

I see fire,

I see blood,