My heart nearly stops when I see him. Tall, broad-shouldered, cloaked in darkness, but I know that form. I know that presence, the aura that surrounds him like a storm.
“No,” I breathe, shaking my head as if denying it will make it go away. “You’re not real.”
The figure steps closer, his face emerging from the shadows, and my breath catches in my throat.
It’s my prince.
My husband.
My betrayer.
Every inch of him is just as I remember—the fierce gaze that once unraveled me, the sharp, commanding lines of hisface, and the cold, enigmatic intensity in his eyes. For a brief, aching moment, I can almost feel the pull of him, the bond that once tied us together. My heart clenches, betraying me with its yearning, even as my mind screams in disbelief.
Daedalus watches me, his gaze heavy with something I can't decipher—something that sends a shiver down my spine.
“Amara,” he says, his voice low, filled with everything I don’t want to hear, everything I’ve been trying to forget.
I take a step back, my hands shaking, my heart pounding against my ribs. How is he here?
“Amara,” he calls again, his voice soft but commanding, and in that moment, something in Ashen shifts.
The air around him ripples, and before I can comprehend what’s happening, his slight form grows, expanding in a swirl of smoke and shadow. His fur darkens, lengthening, as his body morphs into something enormous—something fierce. He roars, a deep, earth-shaking sound that sends a chill down my spine. His eyes blaze with an eerie, spectral light, his body now massive, powerful, like a creature from a nightmare.
“Ashen?” I gasp, my voice barely audible as I stumble backward.
Ashen, now a towering lion of smoke and shadow, charges forward, his growl vibrating through the trees as he leaps toward Daedalus with claws outstretched and a mass of writhing tentacles twisting from his back. The force of his transformation is violent. The ground trembles beneath my feet, the air crackling with energy.
Panic grips me, and without a second thought, I turn and run, my legs burning as I race through the forest, branches tearing at my skin. Behind me, the sounds of a battle I don’t dare to witness rages on—Ashen's monstrous roars, the clash of shadow and darkness.
I run faster, the terror gripping me like a vise, because I can’t look back. If I do, I might find that Daedalus isn’t real—or worse—that he is.
Chapter 33
Irun for the village, the vine wall parting just long enough to let me slip through before it closes behind me. The ancient vines are strong, but I know they won’t keep him out.
Nothing will.
The village is eerily silent as I dash through the paths, the only sounds the dying crackle of embers and the wind rattling chimes that hang from the eaves of the tree houses. My heart hammers in my chest as I reach the spiral stairs that lead up to the canopy. I spin on my heel, searching the shadows for any sign of him, my skin prickling with dread.
Then I hear it—that sound. The soft pop of him stepping through the void. My breath catches as I turn to see Daedalus across the courtyard, his long black coat swirling around his legs, his high collar framing his sharp features. His dark hair falls in tousled waves, and his pointed ears peek through, but he’s not flawless tonight. A deep scratch mars the pale skin of his cheek, and his shimmering cloak is torn at the shoulder.
“Amara,” his voice is calm, almost pleading. “Stop this now.”
For a heartbeat, I want to.
I feel that same pull, that magnetic force between us, tempting me to believe in him again. But then I remember. I remember the lies that slipped too easily from his lips, the betrayal hidden behind every promise. This man would havesacrificedme for power.
He’s a deceiver. A trickster. And I won’t fall for it again.
I back up the stairs, my legs trembling as Daedalus moves toward me, each step deliberate and unyielding.
“I just want to talk,” he says, his voice smooth, but his eyes flicker with something darker.
Before I can respond, another pop shatters the night, and in a blur of smoke and fury, Ashen leaps at the prince, roaring like a creature pulled from a nightmare. His glowing eyes burning with rage as his claws flash in the moonlight.
“Ashen. No!” Daed growls, but Ashen is relentless.
The two collide, a snarl ripping from Daed’s throat as they roll to the ground, a feral tangle of limbs and teeth. For a moment, it’s impossible to tell who is the beast as Daedalus bares his canines, his growl deep and primal, matching Ashen’s every move. Then, with another deafening pop, they both disappear into smoke.
