“I—” My cheeks warm. “I feel…great, actually.” I’m not lying either. I’m a little sore, but otherwise, I feel better than I have for a while. Damn, I guess sleeping with the guys really is helping.
Thane nods like my answer makes complete sense. “You’ve been with three of us now,” he points out.
“It looks like my theory continues to be proven correct,” Galen adds. “The more you’re with us, the more you seem to be able to access shadow magic. Have any more memories returned?”
I’m thoughtful for a moment before I shake my head. “No, not yet, anyway.” Another thought occurs to me then. “Hold on, do you think I could handle Raith’s monster, because I might be able to turn into a monster, too?” I’m not sure how I feel about that idea, but it is tiring being so short sometimes, and never being able to reach the top shelves. I can definitely see some perks in being able to shift into a larger form.
“Most students gain control over the fundamental shadow magic abilities such as cloaking and the like, though some students are more powerful than others,” Galen drawls. “Some, exhibit even stronger gifts and different abilities. We have suspected the fact that you’re matched to us means you will inevitably become powerful.”
“Okay, but what if I can turn into a monster, and it’s the reason I’m destined to destroy you guys?” I say.
“You don’t frighten us, sunshine,” Raith says, clearly not taking this seriously.
“Currently, I’m more concerned about whomever contracted the foxrets to attack us,” Galen drawls. “Obviously, they are not of sound mind if they thought the foxrets could stop us.”
“Do you think they knew about Shade?” Raith asks, anger touching the edges of his eyes.
“I doubt it,” I comment, reflecting on our time in the clearing. “The foxrets didn’t seem like they were expecting me.”
“But you said they had orders to kill us?” Thane asks, his expression serious, like a commander who’s trying to collect all the information he can before riding into battle.
“Yeah,” I confirm, a sinking feeling forming in my gut.
The guys nod, and no one says anything for a moment.
“You’re not worried?” I prompt, concerned by their lack of reaction.
“Truthfully, it’s not the first time someone has tried to kill us,” Galen explains. “When you’re powerful there are always those who wish to tear you down.”
“But we’ve never had an attempt where someone has organized a species of zenali before…” Thane muses as he paces the room.
“Yes, I’ll admit that is curious,” Galen says, stroking his chin. Noticing my confusion, he explains, “Whomever ordered them to kill us had to know we were planning to visit the foxrets soon. They also must be strong enough to survive a visit to the foxrets, and have enough power to get the foxrets to listen. I imagine, they must have had something to bargain with…”
“Any original could have done that,” Raith bites out. “And there are a handful of stronger warriors who would be privy to that information.”
Thane stops pacing and crosses his arms. “For all we know, it could also be the queen toying with us. Knox is trying to get more information now.”
“He’s in the city?” Galen asks, his brows rising.
“The queen summoned him,” Thane answers. His voice is indifferent, but irritation clouds his eyes. “There have been more attacks.”
Galen nods absently as he stares off into the distance, then he turns his attention back to Thane. “And is the date for the games set?”
Thane blows out a weary breath. “We’ll know when he returns. But it’s been a long night. For now, we should get some rest.”
At that, they all peer at me, and I’m guessing by ‘we’ he really meant ‘me.’ I yawn loudly, not arguing with him. After the encounter with the foxrets, and Raith’s er… attention, my eyes feel like they could fall shut at any second.
Grinning, Raith takes that opportunity to move from the couch. Grabbing me, he lifts me bridal style, and I nuzzle into his warmth as he carries me into the bedroom. “Come on, sunshine. Tomorrow’s a big day.”
~ Knox ~
“You’re making a mistake,” I bite out as I stand before the shadow queen, paying no attention to the armored guards who line the walls of the great chamber. “We’ve told you the students aren’t ready.”
Queen Krosia simply regards me as she leans back on her throne, peering down from her position on the dais. Broken bones and cracked skulls adorn her throne, the souls of the most infamous deserters trapped and woven between the aged bones and black metal. The shadows flicker in the air, like they’redesperate for a release they’ll never get. All because they defied her.
Blood stains the queen’s armor like she’s walked straight from the battlefield, and Germain and Ambrose stand on either side of her, the originals looking just as bloody.
Germain smirks at me. “Well, it was your job to prepare them. It just sounds like excuses to me. Are you saying you’ve failed our queen?”
