My shadow finally started to move. She tugged harder, a growl scraping up her throat, and my shadow slid off the wall and flashed over to her, rising to loom above her.
“Good girl,” I said.
Reyla sagged back against the wall, though she kept control of my shadow, even when I tried to call it back to mirror me on the floor.
I yanked harder and it wentnowhere.
My proud smile flickered up. “Verygood girl.”
She shot me a grin that stabbed through me. Eviscerated me. Made me love her all the more. “How are you able to keep such tight control over your shadow? The rest kind of drift around and act compliant.”
“Shadows from inanimate objectsarecompliant. Shadows generated by living beings like us almost seem to have a mind of their own.”
“Especially yours.”
I dipped my head forward in agreement.
“It takes time to learn how to manipulate more than inanimate object shadows. Practice. Most shadow wielders never make it past objects. But you commanded my shadow, and it obeyed you. No one else has ever done that before, though one tried.”
She bumped off the stone wall and walked over to stand in front of me, my shadow following her like an obedient nyxin. But then, that was me. A pup eager to do whatever this woman asked. “Who tried to steal your shadow?”
“I was ten.”
“One person then, not split.”
I blinked.
“Tell me what happened?” With a flick of her hand, she released my shadow to ooze across the floor and up onto the wall where it suddenly matched me again. The action was almost an afterthought on her part, which told me that while it may take many more years for her to be a true master of this skill, she had reached an ability with it most never achieved.
We were all tested. We all practiced with masters. But few took their lessons beyond the rudimentary basics.
I drew in a long breath, dragging in the light of the dim sconces and the smoky warmth of the tower room. Her fiery gaze remained on mine as the lights winked out at my command, leaving the room bathed in the light of the stars, the moon. Moonbeams struck her auburn hair, infusing it with molten threads.
She always waited like this, expectant but never impatient, as if she knew I’d eventually speak. She never pushed harder than my temper could take, but her steadiness, the trait I'd once mistaken for softness, shredded me in a way nothing else had.
Taking her hand, I walked over to the wall and sat, bringing her down with me to sit on my outstretched legs. She nestled into my chest as if she belonged there, and oh, how that hurt. While she looked up at me, still waiting, I wrapped my arms around her—wheretheybelonged. Always around this woman alone.
“As I said, I was ten.” My gaze dropped to where her fingers clung to my tunic.
“You two still share the memories of before?”
Again, I blinked.
“Hmm.”
“There were times when all this—” I gestured vaguely at the castle in general. “The courts, the rules… Even as a boy, I chafed against it.”
“This part ofyouin particular, I assume.”
My face ached with my grin because she understood. Back then, we were one, not Lorant and Merrick, a severed half of a soul, each gifted or blighted with characteristics unlike the other. Night. Day. That was the only way to describe it. “Restoration versus Destruction. One side mends what is broken while the other eliminates what is flawed. I epitomize ruthlessness.”
“Viper. Assassin.”
Her voice did not come out judgmental, but inside, I winced. My face, as always, remained unmoving. Stoic. “All that and more.”
“One believes in goodness while the other sees what’s truly there. Sometimes we need to face reality rather than coat it with pretty glamour. A false façade benefits no one.”
I liked that she could see this in me. I'd always focused on the negative side of the traits I'd been left with, seeing them as something to overcome, though for me, that was impossible. I'd never seen them as strengths.
