"Join us," Seraphina says, patting the grass beside her. "The children were hoping you might show them some shadow magic. The non-terrifying kind, if you know any."
The request catches me off guard. Show magic to children? As entertainment rather than a threat?
"Please, Lord Malakai?" the little girl with the doll whispers. "Could you make a butterfly? A shadow butterfly?"
Her request, so innocent despite her obvious fear, does something strange to my chest—a tightening I can't explain. I look at her tiny face, at the way she clutches her doll with white-knuckled intensity, and find myself incapable of refusing.
"Very well," I concede. "One shadow butterfly."
I gather shadows into my palm, shaping them with care I rarely employ in battle. The darkness solidifies, then fragments, reforming into the delicate silhouette of a butterfly with intricately patterned wings.
The children gasp as the shadow butterfly lifts from my palm, its wings beating in silent rhythm as it circles above their heads.
"It's beautiful," a silver-haired girl breathes, her earlier fear forgotten.
Beautiful. Not a word often associated with shadow magic.
Seraphina watches me rather than the display, her golden eyes soft with an emotion I dare not name. The bond pulses with her pleasure, her pride, her... affection? The realization sends a jolt through me so powerful that the shadow butterfly momentarily falters.
My shadows twitch unexpectedly, responding to something I can't identify. For a brief moment, they surge toward Seraphina—not threatening, but seeking, as if drawn by some force I don't understand. I pull them back with effort.
Before I can contemplate this strange reaction, a flash of silver light announces the arrival of her fairy companion. Ivy materializes beside the children, who shriek with delight.
"A fairy!" the little girl with the doll exclaims.
"Not just any fairy," Ivy corrects with theatrical dignity, creating a shower of silver sparkles. "The most magnificent, brilliant, generous fairy to ever grace the Shadow Court with her presence."
"I didn't authorize fairy entertainment," I observe dryly.
"Consider it a package deal," Ivy replies cheerfully. "Where Seraphina goes, I occasionally pop in to liven things up. Your court could use some livening. Have you considered throw pillows? Perhaps a nice potted plant?"
"I've considered having you stuffed and mounted as a wall decoration," I retort.
"Kinky," she replies with a waggle of her eyebrows that nearly startles a laugh from me.
Emmett approaches, his stoicism faltering at the sight before him.
"My lord," he greets me carefully. "The reports you requested."
Ivy zips over to hover near Emmett's shoulder, her hair shifting to a telling pink. "General Emmett. Still maintaining perfect posture, I see."
"Lady Ivy," he acknowledges with a slight bow. "My spine is merely disciplined."
"I've always appreciated discipline," she replies, fluttering closer. "Especially in men who know how to use it properly."
"Fairy," I warn.
"What? I meant in battle, of course." She winks at Emmett, whose ears redden.
Seraphina rises gracefully, and I catch her scent again—that strange richness. My shadows twitch toward her once more, and I have to consciously restrain them.
"The children were hoping Lord Malakai might show them one more shadow trick," she says.
One small boy steps forward. "Can you make a dragon?" he asks, his voice quavering. "A big one that breathes fire?"
I should refuse. Instead, I gather shadows once more, forming them into the shape of a massive dragon that coils through the air above us, wings spanning the entire clearing.
But as the shadows coalesce, something goes wrong.
