A Thief of Nightshade(49)

Through Jullian’s eyes, she saw the moment in class when he’d first seen her.

How he’d struggled to pay attention to his own lesson plans as he’d hovered in front of her desk through the lecture. She heard his voice as he read her first paper aloud in the solitude of his home and then re-read it an hour later. She felt the hope build in his heart when he saw her Land Cruiser in the parking lot that night and how he’d laughed at himself in disbelief over what he was about to do just to steal a few moments with her away from class.

She listened to everything he’d heard from the others at the benefit that night and felt more of his heart melt as he realized how much of her recent trial was like his own journey. She watched as he called her name several times in the garden, but found that as she’d started to sing, he was glad that she didn’t know he was there.

He’d wanted so badly then to tell her how he felt about her and had considered waiting on that first kiss, despite how perfect the moment had been, but her shy smile had overcome his reasoning.

She saw herself asleep in the dark of her room from where he sat in silent watch. It was then, to Aubrey’s surprise, that he first took the Oran from the leather pouch Tabor had given him. He placed it in the palm of his hand and whispered in the same tongue Saralia had used, watched as it came slowly to life, and then tucked it into the corner of her window seat.

She watched Jullian walk with her father to his study and behind closed doors cast a spell to sway Mr. Wright’s opinion of him. Jullian was saddened to see her reaction not as he’d expected, but more so he was grieved not to know the reasons behind it.

The feeling persisted after they’d spoken in the car the night of Brooke’s engagement party and he’d stayed awake that whole night as well, wondering what to do and frustrated that Aubrey was so guarded about it that even the Oran could relay nothing to him but the shame she felt and the wounds she bore because of her past. He’d gotten up to go to the bathroom, just as Grant had said, but it was because he’d known she was behind the door. He just hadn’t been aware of her intentions.

Not until he found her lying on the floor.

She saw how much restraint he’d really shown the weekend they were in Aspen, how he’d touched the Oran at her chest and experienced her pain for himself; how much it’d taken him to keep from killing her father in his anger. After that night, though they’d never mentioned it again, Jullian and Grant developed something akin to friendship—as much as her brother was capable of.

She

saw

every

birthday

and

anniversary,

every

Christmas

and

Thanksgiving. She relived, through his eyes, every kiss, every breathless glance and intimate moment they’d shared. He laughed with Harry, who reminded him of Aislinn, and through those shadowy memories, Aubrey saw who Aislinn had once been—no trace of the bitterness that would take hold of him as the creature he’d now become. And then, amidst the pleasure and happiness of her life with Jullian, she saw finally what he dreamed of. Like he’d said, it was mostly the past and visions of what his life could have been at Saralia’s side, but because of the Oran’s connection to the Lyr, he would occasionally see what had become of his closest friends and those who would betray him and Aislinn after he’d left Avalar. He saw Merrial in her drugged stupor give away Aislinn’s location and then weep in her own filth after the Nightshade had run out.

She felt exhaustion as Jullian had worked tirelessly at building what was more than just a cabin for her—his intent was for it to be a refuge for them both, a place where she could be without all of the things that weighed so heavily on her heart. Where they could have their own world, away from pain that dogged both of their heels. And when he’d said enchanted, he wasn’t kidding. He’d had a little help with the framing. The stained glass, however, he’d done on his own and as she’d suspected, each piece was done with her in mind. It was his way of sharing with her everything he didn’t know how to tell her. He’d begun to formulate a way of telling her the whole truth ... through writing another novel. This time, he would show her how he’d come to her world and why.

And finally, she followed in his footsteps as he’d kissed her on the cheek when he left to go hunting. She’d still been sleeping and he hadn’t wanted to wake her up to say goodbye. It was a decision he’d regretted in agony as the Sidhe had come ripping through the dark woods that morning. He’d screamed her name and fought viciously, even to his own detriment, until the moment Saralia had cast her spell on him. And all was forgotten.

Aubrey blinked as though waking from a dream and pulled her hand to her side, away from the Oran. She was breathing heavily and was as close to breaking down as she’d ever been.

“What did you see?” Aislinn asked

softly.

“Everything,” she whispered and before he could refuse her, she took the Oran from Aislinn and held it tightly with both hands, speaking to Jullian in her mind —ignoring the pain that seared through her like a bullet as she made contact with it.

Fight this! I know you can. I’ll be strong enough for both of us if I have to be. You don’t recognize my voice, or remember my name. But I love you, Jullian.

Aislinn pried the Oran from Aubrey’s hands just as she fell limply into his arms.