The Shade moves, scurrying closer. I freeze, breathing slowly to control my instinct to flinch back. I may not be in the throes of fear, but I’d recoil from any creature who darted too quickly at me. The Shade takes a few hesitant steps closer, whiskers twitching as it watches me with those wide, dark orbs. Then it sits back on its haunches and brings its tiny paws to its fat little belly. Just like Sloth’s, its fur looks so real, despite being made of wisps of shadow. And the way it’s looking at me…
Holy shit. It’s adorable.
My lips curve in unrestrained delight as I watch the squirrel bring a paw to its rounded ear, grooming itself. I can’t take my eyes off it—
Something enormous bounds toward us under the tree. It brushes past me, throwing me off-balance, and I realize it’s Sloth.
“Sloth, to me,” Dominic says, his voice coming from behind me. How long has he been there?
The shadow dog pays his master no heed and charges for the squirrel, his jaws closing on air as the other Shade darts up the tree trunk. Sloth chases it in a circle, leaping up to snap at it while the squirrel jumps from branch to branch, squeaking in fright as it tries to evade the wolfhound.
“No, Sloth,” I call out. “Leave it!”
Sloth, of course, doesn’t listen to me either, and evades the laws of nature by padding straight up the damn tree trunk—because he’s a fucking shadow and can do what he wants—and onto the bough where the squirrel has sought safety. His jaws snap above the branch, narrowly missing the squirrel, who leaps off just in time…
To land on my godsdamned shoulder.
My muscles seize at how close the Shade is to me. That it’sonme. Maybe fear has begun to dawn after all, but I’d react the same no matter what wild creature leaped upon me, no matter how cute or evil said creature was. And that isn’t the worst that happens.
As Sloth jumps down from the tree and barrels toward me, the squirrel squeaks in fright again and takes the opportunity to run down the length of my arm and up my fucking sleeve.
Now it’s my turn to start squealing, as the rodent’s shadowy body brushes up my arm, down my back, and…
Where now? Where the hell is it now?
In my panic, I’ve risen to my feet and darted out from under the tree, and now I spin, slapping at my clothing and trying to shake the rogue Shade out. I think I felt it dart down my leg, but it could have been my petticoats, so I shake out my skirts even more, jumping up and down as I unhook my cloak. Once my panic subsides and I’m fairly certain the squirrel is gone, I stop in place, panting.
All eyes are upon me, Dominic staring from a few feet away, the rest frozen in the middle of their tasks. Harlow still holds the waterskin, devoid of the cork I’m certain to have lost.
“What the hell was that?” Dominic says. There’s no sign of Sloth, but of the three shadows he casts on the snowy ground, one wavers in agitation.
I smooth my skirts with all the grace I can muster. “There was a squirrel.”
“A squirrel?” Dominic echoes.
“Inana and her squirrels,” Harlow says, rolling her eyes as she tops the waterskin with a spare cork. Why didn’t I do that?
I’m about to defend my honor, but I can’t bring myself to describe what happened. What would they think if I confessed the squirrelwas not just a Shade buttheShade, one of the ones we shaped with our art? What would Dominic say if I told him a Shade crawled inside my clothing? I have a feeling he’d make me strip down naked to ensure it wasn’t still there, and—for the love of the gods—why is that thought making me hot and bothered?
No, it’s the panic. The panic and the shaking of my skirts. If Dominic really wants to know, Sloth can tell him.
“It’s…fine. I’m fine,” I mutter, and stride back toward Harlow.
“Why didn’t you let me eat it?” comes Sloth’s voice, barely audible over the sound of my steps crunching through the snow. “She was going to pet it! She was going to love it more than me.”
“Enough,” Dominic whispers. “You’ve got serious abandonment issues.”
“They’reyourabandonment issues,” Sloth snipes back. It occurs to me, after I’ve already finished my waterskin chore and moved on to another, what a strange thing that was to say.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Dominic
Sloth has been sulking all evening, convinced Inana has fallen in love with a fucking squirrel. With my wound healed well enough—though still painful as all hell—I’m back at the reins when we set out. He’s a pool of formless shadow at my feet, lifting his head to sigh every few minutes. His obsession with her is ridiculous. Though, when I think about what he said back at the glade…
They’reyourabandonment issues.
I don’t like what that implies about said obsession. Obviously it’snotmine.
