Page 57 of Twisted Truths

I nod and smile. “All right, turn around while this soaks into my hair so I can shampoo yours.”

He does as I ask, and I pick up the shampoo bottle. I’m pouring the shampoo into my palm, my eyes fixated on his scars. I’ve felt them but never seen them so close up. He’s never told me how he got them, and I’m not going to push him—he’ll tell me when he’s ready. I’m not sure I have a right to know such intimate details about him given that I’m keeping my entire history from him.

Regardless, I place a kiss on one. He stiffens for a fraction of a second, but he doesn’t turn around or tell me to stop, so I follow the path to the next one, then the next and the next. It’s my way of telling him that I care for all the parts of him, even the broken ones.

Once I’ve worshipped each round scar, I wash his hair. Neither of us speaks about my act, and we remain quiet, contemplative until we step out of the shower to dry off.

Obsidian invites me to spend the night in his bed, and as I curl up against his chest and let the steady thrum of his heart lull me to sleep, I only have one wish—to take his pain away.

When I wake sometime in the middle of the night, there’s a loneliness nestled in my chest, and I’m not surprised when my hand reaches to an empty spot next to me. Sure enough, when I open my eyes and roll over, his side of the bed is bare. The bed sheets are cold to the touch, so he’s been gone for some time.

I sit up, wondering if I should seek him out. Thinking back on how quiet and withdrawn he was earlier, I want to make sure he’s okay. But where to start looking? Could I find my way back to the secret garden? I’m not so sure. This manor is huge.

First, I go to my room to slide on sandals and put on shorts and a T-shirt. I was lucky earlier that no one came upon us, but I don’t want to risk it again. Then I make my way through the manor. I don’t find him, but I didn’t think I would.

As soon as I step outside into the dark, I regret not bringing my phone to use the flashlight. Fog swirls around my feet, the tendrils reminding me of hands rising from the earth like phantoms ready to drag me down. Suppressing a shiver, I’m thankful for the almost-full moon. The ivy-covered wall rises up in front of me almost out of nowhere, and the iron gate leading into the garden is ajar.

Please be here.

Suddenly, the memory of Obsidian in that ocean flickers to mind, and a flood of anxiety rushes through me. I don’t think he was so distraught that he’d consider ending his life, but there’s so much he still keeps from me. Showing weakness isn’t something he’s comfortable with.

My footsteps speed up, uncaring if I trip and fall. I need to set eyes on him and know that he’s okay. I rush through the gate and immediately look over to where I found him that night and breathe a sigh of relief at his figure sitting in the dark.

Thank God.

He doesn’t seem to hear me approach until I’m mere feet from him, but his face shows no surprise when his eyes meet mine.

“Hey,” I say in a quiet voice, afraid I’m disturbing him.

“Hey.”

“Everything okay?” I sit beside him and place a hand on his thigh.

Obsidian blows out a breath. “Just couldn’t sleep. My mind was racing.” He gives me a lame attempt at a smile, a forced one I’ve never seen before.

“Want to talk about it?”

His gaze drifts over to the spot where I’m assuming his mother’s lifeless body was discovered. “Not really, no.”

I pretend my heart isn’t cracking from him not trusting me, but I remind myself I’m not being open with him either.

We sit in silence for a long time, listening to the sounds of the night. What was once disturbing is now comforting. The mist at my feet, the man at my side, and the hanging moon overhead.

After some time, I want to draw him out of his spiraling thoughts. “Can I ask about the wolf tattoo? You told me why you got it on such a visible spot, but you never told me why a wolf.”

He gives me a resigned smile. “My mother coined each of her sons a different animal. I was the wolf. She said I was resilient, loyal with fierce instincts, and that I was territorial and would always look out for my pack.”

I didn’t know the woman, but I can understand exactly why she referred to him as such.

“Each of my brothers has their own tattoo in kind. You’ve probably noticed Asher’s.”

“The bear.”

“Yeah. Kol has a lion, and Nero a raven. I don’t know how she saw so much of who we were at such a young age.”

I grab his hand, and his palm swallows mine. “It’s nice that you still have memories of her. I have very few memories of my mother.”

He squeezes my hand and looks back at that spot again. He stands quickly. “I need to go for a ride.”

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