Chapter 1
While I’m kneading dough, I feel an intense surge of heat bloom on my chest.
Gasping, I reach up instantly to unclasp my necklace, then drop it like it’s alive on the flour-coated counter. I stare at the pearl pendant attached to the gold chain—the pearl that’s now burning hot.
Something is wrong with Analla.
Infused with magic and bonded to my sister, the pendant tells me what words cannot. When it’s warm, that means she’s dealing with nuisances, survivable troubles.
When it’shot—
My throat tightens and my pulse roars in my ears as realization sinks in. If it’s hot, that means she’s in actual danger.
I was already worried because she hadn’t come home last night—or the previous two nights, for that matter. She never stays at work for that long, not without letting me know first.
So, yes, it is possible that she’s in danger. And if she is, there’s only one place she could be: Seferin’s keep.
Living just along the outskirts of Meriva Empire, Seferin is the most corrupt sorcerer in the entire kingdom.
I immediately wipe the sticky dough from my fingers, shove the necklace into one of my trouser pockets, and grab my satchel. I don’t tell the other baker where I’m going, despite her calling after me as I storm out of the bakery.
I don’t even stop to think.
I just leave.
…
By the time I reach the edge of the forest, the sun is starting to sink behind the tree line, and a cold sense of dread crawls up my spine with every step. Words Analla has said before repeat in my head.
Never come to his keep.
Warnings be damned. I need to know if she’s okay. What if this is a false alarm? What if the pendant’s magic is fading, like I was warned it might?
A possibility, yes, but I need to be sure.
The hike takes nearly an hour. My feet ache and my lungs burn, but I don’t slow down until I see the familiar shape of Seferin’s keep, three stories of black brick crowned by a dome roof rising between the treetops.
The Shadow Nest.
He uses this place as a private, exclusive club, one that’s by invite only. It’s the sorcerer’s coverup for corruption, his last shred of mortality. His way of leading people to believe he’s merely one of us…just with adarkerside.
I’ve only been here once when I assisted Analla with carrying supplies. It was her first week of work as a nightmaiden. I saw things that day that made my skin crawl, things I still can’t put into words. She made me swear to never return…yet here I am.
I crouch behind a tree and scan the area ahead. With sunlight still lingering in the sky, the sorcerer guards that usually patrol the grounds have lowered their defenses. After all, it’s night that belongs to the monsters.
After checking that my surroundings are clear, I dash across the open field and slip around the side of the building. A partially open door reveals a kitchen beyond. I give the door a nudge with the tip of my boot and step inside.
Around a corner, a cook bends over the hearth with his back to me. I take that as my opportunity to sneak through the kitchen and slip into a hallway, but I wind up crashing into someone else.
Shit.
She’s tall and abnormally slender, wearing a one-piece leather garment that clings to every sharp angle of her body.
She grabs hold of my arm before I can escape and yanks me toward her. “Who are you?” she demands. “I’ve never seen you before.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just looking for my sister,” I say, voice trembling. “She works here. I just want to check on her.”
The woman’s eyes narrow, and the tension in her features softens as she studies my face.
