Lux (The Nocte Trilogy, #3)(9)

Excitement leaps in my chest and I charge from the bed, pulling on clothes as I go. A dog. Dogs don’t judge you, they love you no matter what, and they never act like you’re crazy. I can hardly wait to get one of my own.

Finn and I chatter as we ride with Sabine in an old truck, down the road to a neighbor’s. A herd of fat fluffy black puppies surround us when we get out, and it isn’t long before I pick one with big sad eyes, and Finn picks one with a wriggly body and wagging tail.

“They look small now,” Sabine warns us. “But they’ll be bigger than you someday. They’ll have to be carefully trained to be obedient.”

“What should we name them?” Finn wonders aloud as he holds his squirming puppy on the way back to Whitley.

Sabine glances at us. “Their names will be Castor and Pollux. It is fitting.”

I find it interesting that she has already named them, but it doesn’t really matter. Because I have a soft puppy sleeping on my lap and that’s really all I ever wanted. I just didn’t realize that until now.

It isn’t until we’re back at Whitley and in the kitchen feeding our new pets when I think of our cousin.

“Shouldn’t Dare have gotten a puppy, too?” I ask, pausing with my hand on Castor’s head. Sabine shakes her head and looks away.

“No.”

Her answer is so immediate and firm that it puzzles me.

“But why?”

“Because, my child, he doesn’t matter. Now remember what your grandmother said. Children don’t ask questions here.”

It’s the first time that I truly see Dare’s place in this home, and he plays the role of insignificance. I don’t like it. Dare should have the same position as I have. He’s Eleanor’s grandchild, just like me. So why do they treat him like he’s different, like he’s disposable?

It leaves me with a sense of dread and a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Try as I might, that feeling won’t go away.

Finn and I sleep with Castor and Pollux snuggled at our feet, and still, I somehow feel alone for the first time in my life because I’m in a place where a living breathing person has no importance whatsoever.

If it’s Dare today, it might be me tomorrow.

Disposable.





Chapter Five





Whitley Estate

Sussex, England



I dream that I can’t breathe, that something something something is strangling me. I struggle and struggle to take a breath, to move, and I simply can’t. I startle awake to find Castor lying across me, with every ounce of his two-hundred pounds crushing me.

“Ugh, Castor, move,” I mumble because his dog breath is rancid and his slobber is dripping down my neck. He pants harder, and doesn’t budge.

I manage to roll out from under him and I fight hard to remember the little ball of fur that he used to be only one year ago.

“You’re enormous,” I tell him lovingly, patting his giant head. We’d only arrived yesterday and Castor and Pollux seemed to remember us, as though we’d never left. “I didn’t even know a dog could get so big.”

He seems as big as a small horse and his paws are bigger than my hands. I know that for a fact. I compared. He’s as heavy as Finn and I put together, maybe more, and I love him. I love him as much as last year, as much as I ever did. Maybe even more. He’s so big that I know he’d never let anything happen to me. Not ever. For some reason, that feels important.

“Let’s go get some breakfast, boy.” Castor pants at my heels as we wind our way through the halls, and his nails click on the stone. He sounds like a moose walking behind me. Nothing about him is subtle.

I pause at Finn’s bedroom and peer in, and I smile when I see Finn and Pollux sprawled together in the sheets. Pollux is every bit as large as Castor, and he makes the giant bed seem small. He perks his ears when he sees me, but doesn’t move.

“Shh, boy,” I tell him. He closes his eyes as though he understands that I want my brother to sleep. We’re jetlagged and down seems like up right now.

When I get to the kitchens, there is no one there. It’s unusual, but it’s far earlier than everyone else gets up on a normal day. Stupid jetlag. I grab a roll from the cabinet, pour some food for Castor, and eat my breakfast.

When I’m finished, I’m still alone in the kitchen.

So Castor and I head outside, stepping along the foggy paths as we explore.

I immediately wish I’d worn a sweater. It’s chilly outside with the morning breeze and the sun only just now coming up. Goosebumps form everywhere on my body and scrape together on my legs as I walk, like prickly miniscule anthills.

The horizon is laced with purples and pinks and reds as the sun begins to tip over the edge. It seems abnormally huge, but it is because Whitley’s grounds are so large, so vast. I’m marveling in the beauty of it when I hear a noise.

A rock tumbling along the path, maybe. A skidding sound, something that interrupts the stillness of morning.

I pause, but Castor bounds ahead without me, his giant body barreling down the path toward the stables, intent on finding the source of the noise.

“Castor!” I call, but he doesn’t listen, and doesn’t even look back.

“Castor!” A male voice barks through the stillness, and Castor skids to a stop at Dare’s feet. “Sit!”