Page 72 of Inked Athena

But I don’t deserve such a simple, painless ending.

Maybethisis what I deserve.

The cold. The rain. The loneliness.

So I close my eyes and take it.

27

NOVA

The storm wakes me up.

I should be used to it by now—it’s been storming every day here for weeks. It’s like clockwork: night falls and storms break. I ought to be snoozing right through them.

It’s not like I was sleeping very deeply, anyway.

Finbarr and the rest of the puppies are huddled together in the nest of blankets I made for them in the corner, yapping with terror at every rumble of thunder. Samuil’s side of the bed is still empty.

I fell asleep waiting for him to show up. I was sure he’d find his way to bed when it suited him. Very few things have kept him from it so far. Even when we fight, he doesn’t stay away.

But it’s late and there’s no sign Samuil ever made it up.

Surely, he’s not still in his office. What kind of work could he be getting done when it sounds like the castle is being ripped apart stone by stone? The only reason I’m not shaking in a heap withthe puppies is because I keep telling myself this castle has stood here for hundreds of years—it’ll last one more night.

Or maybe he gave up work and found some unfinished part of the castle to sit by himself and feel like an ass for how he treated Myles.

I’m hoping for the latter, but a part of me is still not sure he’s capable of anything as human as regret.

Sighing, I slide out of bed and walk over to the window.

Rain falls against the window in pitch-black sheets. I’m not sure I’d be able to see my hand in front of my face.

Then lightning strikes overhead. A jagged flash of white heat searing over the loch. And for a single second, I see my boat, bobbing in the middle of the loch.

Then full dark descends again.

Frowning, I squint, trying and failing to make out its shape in the night. My boat should be anchored to the shore. It’s not supposed to be in the middle of the lake. Maybe the wind untied my knot, but I doubt it. What I lack in gardening skills, I make up for with my knots. Mr. Morris said I was a quick study.

Another flash of lightning. Whiter. Hotter. I press my face to the window, flattening my nose against the glass. There’s the boat—and, even more bizarre…

… Someone is in it.

Who would be stupid enough to go out on the water in this storm?

In answer, another bolt of lightning zags across the sky, illuminating things long enough for me to see the broad, stubborn shoulders and dark hair I know so well.

“Samuil!” I scream out, like there’s any chance at all he can hear me.

Then, without a second thought, I sprint out of my room and down the staircase.

Even in the heart of the castle, it feels like the walls are quaking. Does Samuil have a death wish? Is that why he took my boat out in this storm? Is he a fucking madman?

Each peal of thunder sends my heart crashing in response against my chest, desperate to get out. To be with the man it loves, despite it all. The man who thinks he can fight Mother Nature herself and win.

I have just enough presence of mind to throw on some rain boots and a coat before dashing out onto into the rain.

Although “rain” feels like a woefully inadequate word for what I walk into. Even with my jacket, I’m soaked through in seconds. The cold bites at my fingers and my face. Every drop of rain is another tiny dagger slicing into my exposed skin.

---