A million questions cram into my mouth, begging to be asked, but I’m tired of being left in suspense. On the insane notion he might actually be jealous, I leave the silence hanging—for him to wriggle and grab onto.
"You like him," Shadow finally says in that low, gravelly tone. I’m not sure if it’s a statement or a question. My heart skips, like his voice hit a tripwire I didn’t know was waiting.
And suddenly, I regret leaving that line out for him to grab onto. I don’t want to have to define my feelings—not for him, not for myself.
Miguel is nice.
He sticks around.
I could be happy with him.
That last one falls like lead in my stomach.
Standing next to Shadow, it can only be a heavy lie. When he’s the one I gave my heart to before I even knew I had one to give.
"Where have you been?" I ask instead.
Inky tendrils whip about as if he remembers something unpleasant. "Getting rid of the body." His tone is flat and emotionless.
The memory of the blood-red creature that attacked me—those giant crab legs and menacing horns—flashes through my mind. I can’t help but wonder how Shadow disposed of it.
Did he bury it in the ground? Toss it into a river? But then again, what if there’s no water where he’s from?
The thought evaporates. I know better than to ask questions. Asking only makes Shadow shut down.
Surprisingly, after the attack, the cat slunk back to my door, its fur matted with snow and dirt, but its eyes shining with a fierce protectiveness. I spent nearly an hour crouched beside it, whispering words of gratitude and giving it gentle head scratches.
I’d been toeing the line, but now I cross the threshold into my bedroom, forcing Shadow back so I can enter. I peel off my knit sweater and let it fall onto the bed. Sweat glistens across my skin as I sit down in just a thin tank top. Shadow turns to watch me.
Could it be desire gleaming in his dark eyes?
No. It’s all in my head.
"So what was that thing?" I ask, crossing my arms and trying to ignore how my nipples tighten under his gaze.
"A redeye mawterror."
"Funny name to have when you don’t have eyes."
His silence tells me it’s not funny at all.
Admittedly, that thing had truly been a creature of nightmares. Every instinct I had told me I was dead—until Shadow showed up. Just in the nick of time. Again.
"How did it get here?" I ask slowly.
With that, Shadow whips back and forth across the room in agitation. "Because I foolishly led him to you. By returning here, I drew attention to myself… and to you. It was a stupid thing to do."
My spine stiffens, breath quickening.
Hope flares in my chest—dangerous, bright. The kind that always burns too hot too fast.
This is the closest he’s ever come to telling me about where he comes from.
"Is that why you stayed away for so long?" I ask.
Shadow halts but doesn’t look at me. "No," he finally says. Then in a lower voice, "But it’s why I shouldn’t have returned."
I launch off the bed and cross the room at him. Smoky tendrils dissipate under my grasp until I manage to lock my hands around his neck.
