The thick, black cloth bag over my head smothers my senses, blocking out everything but the faint, suffocating scent of stale air and stone dust. I can’t see a damn thing, can’t even catch a whiff of the damp tunnels around me. But sound? Sound is something I can’t shut out. The echo of footsteps bounces off the walls, coming from all directions—muffled conversations, the clanking of chains, groups of people moving about.
I don’t bother asking where we’re going. I already know Yumekui won’t tell me. She lives for this, for the suspense of drawing out the unknown, letting it seep into my bones like venom. Like any filthy demon, she feeds on pain and misery, thriving on the power it gives her, savoring each twist of agony and confusion as if it’s some twisted delicacy.
I’m pushed in the back and then two hands clamp down on my shoulders, forcing me down until I fall into a chair. Then the sack is ripped off my head, and I blink, my eyes adjusting to the light. I see Yumekui’s back as she retreats to the far wall and kneels down, head bowed.
“I see you’ve healed again, but not without scarring.” The Shadoweaver’s piercing gaze goes to Yumekui.
“What do you want?” I growl.
She smiles. “I want to share a meal with you.”
I frown in confusion, my eyes narrowing as I tip my face forward.
“And after, you can call that mate of yours.”
“You’re fucking dreaming.” I smirk.
In an instant, the Shadoweaver is up and rounding the table, her movements smooth and predatory. Her hand lashes out, grasping my face in an iron grip. Nails—long and razor-sharp—dig into the skin of my cheek, forcing my head up so that I’m looking directly into those dark, soulless eyes. Her face is mere inches from mine, breath icy against my skin.
“Call your mate,” she hisses, her voice now edged with impatience. “I know you can. I know you and she meet between planes, that you feed from each other. How else could you heal so well.” The Shadoweaver’s eyes narrow, as if daring me to deny it. “Now. Call her.”
My jaw clenches, and a fire burns under my skin, a fire I wish I could unleash.
“Stubborn, are we?” she sneers, her fingers tightening, nails pressing harder until I feel the sting of blood beneath them. “Well, I know a few things, and your mate’s little trick to deceive me failed.”
My heart lurches and I do my best to maintain an air of indifference. The Shadoweaver lets go of my face, pushing me backward, and making the chair rock.
“Did she think that sneaking out in the middle of the night would work?” The sinister laugh that follows sends a shiver down my spine. “I thrive in darkness, as do my pets.”
“Go fuck yourself!” I snarl. The fire burning deep in my chest moves outward like lava flowing through my veins.
The Shadoweaver tips her head back and laughs, the sound grating.
“I am surprised though. She is stronger than I was led to believe. The human world didn’t leave her as weak and broken as one would have thought.” She leans her hip on the table, her long nails tapping on the hard surface.
I can’t stop my smirk from forming. Everly is stronger than we ever gave her credit for. Just because she looks soft, with her delicate features and kind demeanor, doesn’t mean she can’t be fierce. It doesn’t mean she can’t hold her ground when the world tries to push her down.
“Where is she going?” the Shadoweaver demands, cutting through my thoughts.
“I have no idea, and even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”
“I can have Yumekui get into your mind. It’s much easier if you just tell me.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Go ahead,” I taunt, my tone almost dismissive. “Everly has told me nothing of her plans.”
The flicker in her eyes is unmistakable, like starlight piercing through the darkness—bright and piercing. “She is in the Ethereal Mountains. Why?”
I shrug, deliberately casual, and tilt my head slightly as I meet her gaze.
Her lips curve into a tight smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Prince Alivar has aligned himself with your mate,” she says, her voice suddenly sharper, cutting the conversation in a different direction. “So, I think it’s only fitting to send him a warning.”
The words hit me like a blow, and my mind flashes back to the marching—a memory so vivid it makes my pulse thunder. My chair scrapes against the floor as I surge forward, my hands slamming onto the table.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I snarl, my voice low and dangerous. Fury ripples through me, tightening my muscles and darkening my vision.
The Shadoweaver doesn’t flinch. Instead, a slow, almost taunting smirk spreads across her face, and she straightens, exuding confidence and command.
“Oh, My King,” she purrs, her voice dripping with mockery, “but it’s done. My creatures will descend on the City of Starlight tonight.”
