I held my breath, afraid to hope.
A rat skittered in the distance, fleeing toward the shadows. Princess Yifeng peered into the cavern depths, at all the various tunnels snaking into the mountainside.
“Keep her quiet,” she ordered the nearest soldier. “And extinguish the torches.”
The guards stationed outside must’ve sensed an approaching threat. Realizing this was my chance, I let out a high-pitched shriek, my voice echoing across the cavern walls. I only had time to scream once more before the guard struck me across the face. My cheek slammed into the stalagmite I was bound to and I choked on my own blood. Then a guard stuffed a gag into my mouth, silencing me.
The torches went out, leaving us shrouded in hazy darkness, breathing in smoke. I could make out the faintest glimmer of moonlight at the cave’s opening, which rippled as a shadow moved, as fluid as ink spreading through water. Only one person I knew could move like that.
The first scream cut the silence like a knife. My eyes took time to adjust as screams split the air, followed by the ring of steel against steel, the tang of freshly spilled blood, and the low thud of falling bodies. Then that dark shadow was upon us, whirling through the air like a sword dancer, dispersing smoke, light, sound, his twin blades like blinking stars against the night.
He was beautiful—and monstrous. I recoiled as blood sprayed everywhere, coating my face, my hair, my clothes. Death hung like a miasma in the air, bodies falling like stalks of wheat beneath a scythe.
In the shadows I saw Princess Yifeng trying to run, but her expensive robes gave her away as the ivory silk drew the moonlight.She didn’t stand a chance. His speed was unnatural as he caught her from behind and slit her throat, the movement so swift it made me believe in the legends of old, that perhaps mythical creatureshadonce lived here, and that they’d remained as ghosts. Ghosts that returned in the dead of the night, beckoned by blood and violence. For surely this was not the work of a man.
But I caught sight of his face, distinctly human in his anger as he sensed the threat I’d overlooked. Mesmerized as I’d been, I’d missed the closer danger—and only now I saw Tao was still alive. He bore a fatal stomach wound, leaving a trail of blood in his wake as he limped toward me, determined to finish one last job. He raised his blade in the air, but the Ximing prince was faster. Lei stabbed him so viciously Tao moaned in anguish, his organs spilling from his flesh. Then he withdrew his blade and stabbed him again, and again. By the time he was done, the Anlai soldier was unrecognizable.
Chilled to the bone, I could not speak. There were monsters in all of us, I told myself. But the monster in him wasterrifying.
At last, when everyone was dead and the reek of blood hung in the air like a dense fog, Lei dropped his curved blades. They clattered against the stone like a discordant melody. Instead of coming to me as I’d expected, he leaned heavily against the cavern wall, positively falling against it. Was he injured? I tried to speak but could not through my gag. The language of his body, the way he pressed himself against the wall—it spoke of utter defeat. He said nothing for a time, then let out a broken sound of unadulterated rage—rage and sorrow and grief.
My concern growing, I struggled against my bonds. His face was partially turned from me, but I could see something there—something in his expression that unnerved me to my core. He looked…inhuman.
A beautiful monster, I’d once thought him.
“Lei?” I tried to say. “What’s wrong?”
Only a muffled sound emerged from my gag, but it was enough. He rose, shaking as he turned in my direction.
“Lei?” I thought to him.
In a few long strides, he’d crossed the cavern floor. He ripped the gag from my mouth, then held my blood-splattered face in his hands. His touch was so very cold.
“Skies, Meilin,” he breathed, his voice coming out hoarse and gravelly, as if he hadn’t spoken in days. “You—you’re alive. I thought…I thought I’d lost you.”
Then, to my utter amazement, he pressed his forehead against mine and began to cry. Broken sobs that reminded me of his humanity.
“Shh,” I said. “It’s okay.” I tried to wrap my arms around him, forgetting I couldn’t move. My shoulders squirmed uncomfortably in their sockets. “Could you…?”
He roused himself then, lighting a torch to search the dead bodies. He found the key on Tao’s person. He unlocked my collar first, and I gasped for breath as the suffocating iron came off me. The resulting lightness was exhilarating.
I started to fall as he unlocked my remaining chains. Lei caught me in his arms, expecting this. Instead of setting me down, he buried his face in the crook of my neck, breathing me in, not seeming to mind the blood and filth soaking my skin.
This time, I let myself embrace him. In response he drew me closer, until no space remained between us, until our shadows merged as one.
“I was thinking of everything I’d done to you,” he said quietly. “All the torture and grief and unhappiness you’d undergonebecause of me. And that was my greatest regret—that I hadn’t been able to make things right for you.”
His voice broke beneath the weight of his regret.It’s okay, I wanted to say, but my throat was constricting, and I too could not speak.
He spoke into my mind. “I promised myself I would make it up to you—even if it took every damn day of the rest of my life.”
“You’ve already saved me countless times,” I answered. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“Then not out of debt.” A pause. “But out of—love.”
I raised my face to look at him. He swallowed, the knot at his throat lifting. He looked so vulnerable then, as if I had the power to save or destroy him.
“I told you—I don’t know if I’m capable of love anymore.”
