Free SilverMoonLight (SilverMoonSaga Book 1) by Marah Woolf

the room, and tiny dust particles were floating through the air. I
looked around in amazement; it was like something from an old movie. There were
travel mementos hanging on the bare brick walls, a variety of masks, pictures,
and an ancient-looking wooden cross. On one wall, there was an old bridle and
at least twenty rusty horseshoes.
    »My
good luck charms,« smiled Dr. Erickson, noticing my amazed expression. »They’re
all from different countries.«
    Slowly,
taking care not to disturb anything, I edged my way between tables covered with
tools and half-finished frames to the easels at the other end of the room. Numerous
canvases with paintings at various stages of completion stood on them. The
landscapes were beautiful, each one a masterpiece. Would I ever be able to
paint like that? My drawings seemed so amateurish in comparison.
    As
I was admiring them, Calum went over to a pile of old picture frames leaning
against the wall. He studied one after the other before selecting three frames.
    »These
should fit your pictures, I think.«
    He
carried them to a huge workbench and gently took my folder out from under my
arm.
    »What
do you think?« he asked, holding the picture of my mother against a light brown
frame adorned with delicate carvings. The intricate handiwork really showed the
picture off to its best advantage. I nodded and watched as he deftly freed the
back of the frame and carefully took out the pane of glass.
    »Would
you clean it for me?« he asked, handing it over. »There’s some glass cleaner
and a cloth in the cupboard over there.«
    While
I set to work giving the glass a thorough cleaning, Calum inspected the frame
for damage, meticulously dabbing paint and clear lacquer onto the spots where
he found any.
    Once
I was finished, I sat next to him on the workbench and watched his concentrated
expression as he worked.
    »I’ll
go and see how Sophie’s doing with dinner. You don’t need me, right?« asked Dr.
Erickson. In truth, I had already forgotten he was there.
    Calum
worked on in silence as I watched him. His face radiated strength and grace and
I found myself longing to touch his cheek. Not for the first time, I noticed
how long and slender his fingers were. I held my breath for a second at the
thought of him touching me. I was so stupid. Why would he have any more
interest in me than the other girls who, according to Amelie, he had already
rejected?
    All
of a sudden, he smiled.
    »What
is it?« I asked.
    He
just shook his head. I didn’t get an answer, but I was sure he had noticed me
staring at him.
    He
laid the picture into the frame, put the back on, and closed the brackets. Then
he turned it around and held it up to the light.
    It
was perfect.
    He
laid it gently in my lap, then took out the drawing I had done on the cliff.
The sea had been an unusual shade of blue that day, and I had almost succeeded
in capturing the right tone. As Calum looked at the picture in silence, I
noticed that his eyes were exactly the same shade right now.
    Peter
and I had stayed up on the cliff until sundown that day. The peaceful but
menacing aura of the sea was clearly visible in the picture.
    »Do
you feel like telling me what happened to your mother?« asked Calum,
interrupting my thoughts.
    I
took a deep breath. In the weeks following her death I had tried not to talk or
even think about her. I had thought that would make it easier to cope.
    Calum
didn’t press me, but instead waited to see whether I would speak. I looked him
in the eyes and knew that I could trust him. Taking a deep breath, I hesitantly
began to tell him about the accident and the last time I had seen her. Calum
laid the picture frame aside and leaned over, moving closer to me.
    After
I had finished speaking, he looked at me in silence. Tears rose up into my eyes
and tumbled down my cheeks. He wiped them away.
    »I’m
so sorry,« he whispered, putting his arm around me and pulling me into his
chest. I leaned against him. He smelled of the