He crouched beside me, his proximity sending that now-familiar current of energy between us. "Why do you keep it?"
"To remember them. To imagine what they were like." I carefully cradled the photo.
Varkolak studied the photo, his expression unreadable. "Memory is important to humans."
"Isn't it to your people?"
"We live longer. Too many memories become a burden." He touched the edge of the photo, careful not to contact my fingers. "I can show you something. When you're ready."
"I'm ready now," I said, needing to get away from this violated space. "Show me."
The deeper into the mountain we went, the older the tunnels seemed. Varkolak led me through passages that grew increasingly narrow and rough, lit only by strange, phosphorescent fungi that cast everything in pale blue light.
"Few come here now," he said as we descended a steep path. "These are the old places. From before."
"Before what?"
"Before the separation."
He didn't elaborate, and I was too busy watching my footing to press him. Finally, the passage opened into a small, round chamber. Paintings covered the walls.
My breath caught as Varkolak's shadow energy flared, illuminating the ancient images. Unlike the abstract patterning I'd seen in the living quarters of the shadow clan, these were figurative and unmistakable.
They showed shadow creatures and humans. Together. Embracing. And more shocking, shadow-human hybrid children, with human features but shadows clinging to them like second skins.
"What is this?" I whispered, stepping closer to one image that showed a human female with a shadow child at her breast.
"History," Varkolak said simply. "Once, we lived together. Shadow and human. We mated. Had children."
My heart pounded. "What happened?"
"Fear happened. Humans feared our hunting. Our power. Shadow creatures feared human expansion, human weapons." He moved to stand beside me, his shoulder nearly touching mine. "The separation was not peaceful."
I studied the images, noting the tenderness in them. "But it was possible. Humans and shadows. Together."
"It still is." His voice dropped lower. "That's why you're here, Aya. Your blood showed the ancient compatibility. The elders believe it's time to try again."
I turned to face him, suddenly understanding. "That's why Mela and the others hate me. They think I'm here to mate with one of you."
Varkolak's eyes met mine, intense and unwavering. "With me."
The air between us charged with electricity. "Why you?"
"I requested it. When your blood sample came to the elders, I felt..." He struggled for words. "A pull. Like shadow to darkness."
My mouth went dry. I should have been terrified, should have run screaming from this cave and these revelations. Instead, I felt that same inexplicable pull he described. I had felt it from the moment I'd first seen him.
"Is that even possible?" I asked, my voice barely audible. "Physically, I mean."
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. "The paintings suggest so."
Heat flooded my face. I looked back at the images, noticing details I'd missed before with the intimacy, the clear depiction of shadow and human forms intertwined.
"I need time," I whispered. "This is overwhelming."
"Time is something I have plenty of," Varkolak said. He reached out, his fingers hovering just above my arm, not quite touching. "But know this, Aya Fletcher. I will protect you here, whether or not you ever choose to fulfill the purpose of your coming."
I stared at the ancient images, hope and confusion battling within me. If human-shadow unions were once possible, even common, why had they stopped? And what dangers might come from trying to restart them?
