I swallow hard.
“Malrik…”
He’s already staring into the darkness beyond our camp, every muscle in his body tensed.
“I know.”
The darkness beyond our camp writhes, moving in ways shadow shouldn’t.
Something is here.
Chapter 10
Finn
Finn
I'm pretty sure watching the person you're falling for kiss someone else you're also falling for isn't covered in any self-help books. Then again, maybe I just haven't found the right section: "So You're In Love With A Shadow Queen And A Brooding Prince - Now What?"
From my poorly chosen vantage of fake-sleeping, I watch Malrik kiss Kaia through barely open eyes. Something sharp twists beneath my ribs, not quite pain and not quite longing—more like hunger with teeth. My usual jokes feel stuck somewhere between my lungs and throat, which is probably for the best. Even I can read a room. Usually. Sometimes.
Bob—bless his tiny militant heart—seems torn between approved surveillance and respectful privacy. He settles for whatI swear is an embarrassed shuffle before resuming his patrol. Patricia's shadow-notes have taken on a distinctly romantic novel quality, while Finnick appears to be practicing what looks suspiciously like wedding choreography.
Traitors, all of them.
But before I can properly wallow in the irony of my favorite shadows betraying me for the cause of true love, something shifts in the air. The wrongness that's been hovering at the edges of my awareness since we entered this realm suddenly sharpens, like reality itself is holding its breath.
Malrik pulls back from Kaia first, his expression cracking open with a loss that hits me harder than I expect. I know that look. I've felt it every time I've wanted to reach for either of them and stopped myself.
"I know," Malrik says quietly, and for a moment I think he's talking to me before I realize he's responding to something Kaia said.
Then I see it: the darkness beyond our camp isn’t moving. It’s hunting.
I'm on my feet before I make the conscious decision to move, my usual grin falling away as chaos magic crackles between my fingers. "Not to interrupt the romantic tension," I say, because apparently I physically cannot help myself, "but I think we have company."
The twins snap awake instantly, their transformations already rippling beneath their skin. Torric's shoulders broaden as flames lick along his arms, while frost crystallizes in Aspen's hair. The way they move in perfect sync would be fascinating if I wasn't busy trying not to die.
"You know," I add as shapes begin to emerge from the writhing darkness, "when I said I wanted more excitement in my life, this really wasn't what I had in mind."
Bob snaps into full general mode, coordinating the other shadows into battle formations with military precision. Walter just drifts through the camp like he doesn't have a care in the world. And who knows, maybe he doesn't.
The first creature that steps into the firelight looks like someone tried to sculpt a nightmare out of liquid darkness and gave up halfway through. Its form shifts constantly, as if it can't decide what shape horror should take.
"Well," I manage, "that's delightfully terrifying."
More emerge behind it, each one worse than the last. Their eyes—if you can call them that—fix on Kaia with hungry intensity.
The ache in my chest flares. I move without thinking, placing myself between her and the creatures. Malrik does the same, his silver eyes gleaming with deadly purpose.
"Any chance they're just looking for directions?" I ask, but my voice has lost its usual lightness. The pull toward Kaia is almost painful now, matched only by my need to reach for Malrik.
The creatures surge forward as one, and chaos erupts.
Magic explodes from my hands in wild bursts of color, each blast tearing through the creatures' liquid forms. But they reform almost instantly, like oil flowing back together. The twins are magnificent in their fury—Torric's flames carving paths through darkness while Aspen's ice traps the creatures in crystalline prisons that shatter and reform.
"Is anyone else getting tired of these guys not staying dead?" I call out, ducking under what might be a claw or a tentacle—honestly, their anatomy is questionable at best.
Kaia's wings flare with brilliant light as she takes to the air, her shadows moving like a coordinated army beneath her. Bob's leading the charge with military precision while Patricia appears to be documenting enemy weaknesses. Even Finnick has abandoned his usual chaos in favor of synchronized attackpatterns. Carl and Steve surround one of the creatures while Linda tries her best to distract it.
