"Are you sure about this?" Aya whispered, her hand firmly clasped in mine. The bruise on her face had darkened, making my chest tighten with renewed anger.
"Nia is different. She'll help us." I squeezed her hand, feeling the soft warmth of her human skin against my cooler touch.
Nia's door swung open before we could knock. Her fluid shadow form solidified into a striking female figure with silver eyes that cut through the darkness.
"Took you long enough," she said, stepping aside. "The Council's dogs have been scouring the mountains for hours."
Inside, her home stunned me. Unlike the austere dwellings most of our kind preferred, Nia's space held color. Cushions in deep purples and blues. Glowing crystals that cast soft light. Most shocking, photographs of shadow creatures alongside humans.
Aya noticed them too. "Who are they?"
Nia's expression softened. "Family. Friends. Allies."
"Allies?" I echoed.
"Sit down, both of you." Nia gestured to a seating area. "You're not the first to challenge the old ways, Varkolak."
As we settled, Nia brought a steaming mug to Aya. "Willow bark tea. For the pain."
My eyes narrowed. "You know human remedies?"
"I know many things our Council would prefer I didn't." Her shadow form rippled with something like amusement. "Including that there's a faction of us who believe integration with humans isn't just possible but necessary for our survival."
Aya's eyes widened. "There are more like you? Like Varkolak?"
"More than the Council would care to admit." Nia leaned forward. "We call ourselves the Penumbra. We've existed for generations, working in secret to build connections with sympathetic humans."
My mind raced. "How have I never heard of you?"
"Because the Council has been very effective at silencing us. Why do you think so many 'accidents' happen to those who speak out?" Her silver eyes fixed on me. "Like what happened to your father."
The world stopped.
"My father?" The words felt hollow leaving my mouth.
Nia shook her head. "Eikon was one of our strongest voices."
"Wait." I stood, my shadow form churning. "My father was part of this... Penumbra?"
"One of its founders." She moved to a hidden compartment in the wall, retrieving a small wooden box. "He knew the risks, but he believed so strongly that our future lay in cooperation, not isolation."
Inside the box was a medallion, obsidian carved with intricate symbols, symbols I recognized from my childhood. My father had worn this.
"He left this with me before your mother died. Said you'd come looking for answers someday."
My fingers traced the cool stone. Memories flooded back—my father's hushed conversations, unexpected human visitors who disappeared before dawn, books he'd quickly hide when others approached.
"He never told me." My voice sounded strange, distant.
Aya's hand found mine. "Maybe he was protecting you."
Nia nodded. "The Council watches the children of suspected sympathizers closely. He wouldn't risk your safety."
I felt Aya watching me, her eyes filled with concern. "I'm okay," I told her, though I wasn't sure if it was true.
"You're more like him than you know," Nia said softly. "Especially in your choice of mate."
Aya blushed at the word, and despite everything, something warm unfurled in my chest.
