Thatthingis hurting Shadow.
My gut clenches over icy fear.
If I don’t do something, it’ll overtake Shadow then come back for me, and Miguel won’t stand a chance.
Spotting a wooden chair nearby, I gently set Miguel down and run toward it. I summon every ounce of my strength and hurl it toward the cyclops. Maybe it's the adrenaline, but for a second, I fool myself into thinking that it might actually make a difference. The chair connects with a satisfying thud against the cyclops' body, the legs breaking off on impact.
It whips around with a snarl. With another furious roar, it sends a forceful backhand in my direction.
There's no time to dodge as I'm violently flung to the side. Splinters of wood bite into my skin as I crash through another table. I try to regain my bearings and a cold, clammy hand clamps around my ankle. Panic surges anew. The cyclops drags me back, the grotesque grin stretching even wider.
Shadow appears, eyes burning with unholy fire.
I never stood a chance of hurting the monster, but I gave Shadow enough time to get his bearings. The air crackles around him as the room plummets to an icy cold temperature. He slams into the cyclops with a force that shakes the room, pushing it away from me. The two beasts grapple, tentacles and claws locked in combat again.
I watch, paralyzed, as the cyclops manages to sink its teeth deep into Shadow’s shoulder, biting yet another chunk out of him. Shadow lets out a harrowing wail of pain that quickly devolves into a roar of vengeance.
Shoots of darkness erupt out of Shadow—first three, then six, then twelve… so many tentacles, I can’t count. Each of them wraps around the cyclops, countless pythons squeezing and restraining the beast.
The cyclops, still struggling, emits a guttural growl. "Nexus… ours… want… now we know… nothing stops…"
The words are rough and primal, difficult for me to understand. Or maybe that’s my brain and ears rattling from being whipped around like a bag of potatoes.
My heart hammers against my ribs. What did Nexus mean? And why would this creature be after me? Before I can let my mind wander further, Shadow snarls ferociously with a bellowing rage I’m sure sends shockwaves across the heavens.
"No one touches my Evie."
Shadow’s clawed hand rips into the creature’s chest and comes away with a dripping green organ that resembles a heart. Shadow stuffs it in his mouth and the air around us blurs and sizzles as if physics themselves are being trespassed upon. It's more than just a physical change—it's a metamorphosis that is terrifying in its intensity.
A transformation ripples through him as he swallows. The tips of his horns blaze bright red, then white, elongating several inches in mere moments. They sharpen into menacing spires, glinting ominously under the neon light. His skin, already leathery and scaly, hardens into a terrifying armor that seems impenetrable. His eyes, once burning with hellfire, are now engulfed in blackness, a dark abyss filled with rage and hatred. His tentacles thicken, slithering and coiling around his body with a newfound ferocity.
In his rage, he tightens his grip around the cyclops until I hear a faint pop, followed by an eruption of green ichor from where the beast once was.
Silence descends, broken only by the rhythmic drip of water from a fractured pipe, a haunting soundtrack to the devastation. The scent of battle is in the air—blood and other organic fluids, slick and coppery all at once. Overturned tables, shattered chairs, spilled pho—the scene is a painting of chaos. The neon sign outside casts a flickering green glow, giving everything an otherworldly tint.
I pull myself up, leaning on a broken table piece. Every muscle protests and the implications of the cyclop’s words weigh on me.
Shadow stands, breathing heavily and oozing black blood from the bright red gaping wounds in his body. He turns to me, and as our eyes meet understanding passes between us—a bond, deeper and more profound than words could express.
He once promised he would always come for me, but I believed him the other night. I believed he would never come back and either the blood loss or the bone-shaking relief of his return has me on the verge of hysterical sobs.
"You came," I whisper. My voice is a rasp filled with fear and relief.
Shadow limps toward me. "Always."
There is something about him now, something unfamiliar.
There’s been a palpable shift within him, a transformation that makes him almost unrecognizable. His softness, his compassion for me seems buried under layers of brutality. Shadow is more animalistic. No… he’s more monstrous. But I don’t have time to examine how he’s changed.
The distant wail of sirens snaps us back to reality.
"Evie," his voice is rough, "we must go."
My heart thrums like a bass drum as I fight the overpowering urge to follow him out of the restaurant. I force my feet to stay rooted in place and gesture to Miguel.
"I have to help him."
Miguel lays where I left him—so still, too still. The blood has drained from his face, leaving it chalky and near bloodless, but I can see the subtle movement of his chest as he still breathes.
