“You smell like terror and Fae blood. Their favorite combination.”
A shape moved between the trees, too large to be a normal wolf, too fluid to be entirely solid. Red eyes gleamed in the dark, and I caught a glimpse of teeth that were definitely not meant for rabbits.
“There are worse things than me hunting you in these woods,” Daemon said quietly. “Much worse. So I’m going to ask you one more time: will you come with me willingly, or shall I leave you to make friends with the local wildlife?”
The wraith-hound stepped into the moonlight.
I stopped breathing.
It had been a wolf once. The basic shape remained, four legs, pointed ears, a long snout filled with far too many teeth. But its body flickered between solid and translucent, like smoke given form. Its eyes burned with cold fire, and when it opened its mouth, the sound that came out was nothing any living creature should have been able to make.
More shapes emerged from the forest.
Five.
Seven.
Ten.
All of them focused on me with the single-minded intensity of predators who had found their next meal.
“Decide quickly,” Daemon said. “They’re working up the courage to attack.”
I looked at him and saw something in those pitch-black eyes that might have been genuine concern. Not for my well-being, necessarily, but for the value I represented. He needed me alive for whatever scheme he was planning.
The lead wraith-hound took a step forward, and the shadows around Daemon’s feet hissed in response.
“Fine,” I said. “Fine. I’ll come with you.”
“Smart choice.”
He gestured, and the shadow-tendrils around my ankles dissolved. But before I could even consider running again, his hand closed around my wrist. His skin was cold, almost corpse-cold, but his grip was steady. Controlled.
“Don’t move,” he murmured. “Don’t speak. Don’t even breathe loudly. And whatever happens, don’t let go of me.”
The shadows around us rose, forming a cocoon of living darkness that swallowed the moonlight, the trees, everything. The world tilted, and suddenly it felt like falling through endless space.
When reality solidified again, we were somewhere else entirely.
But the howling followed us.
CHAPTER 5
DAEMON
The shadow-walk left her retching. Luckily for her, I could only shadow-walk once a day without aggravating the curse’s effects.
I held her hair back as she emptied what little remained in her stomach onto the moss, trying not to think about how soft the strands felt between my fingers. Dark brown, threaded with hints of red that caught the moonlight. Her powers alone should have been enough to keep my distance, yet observations of her personality and features intruded on my thoughts.
“Where are we?” she gasped when the heaving finally stopped.
“Somewhere safe from the King’s eyes.” I released her hair and stepped back, restoring distance between us. Close contact made my magic restless, eager to tangle with hers in ways that would complicate everything. “The Cursed Lands hold no allegiance to any monarch.”
She scanned our surroundings with dark eyes that missed nothing, cataloging threats and escape routes with the efficiency of someone who had survived by her wits alone. The sharpness in her gaze brought an unexpected sense of relief. Stupid people died quickly in places like this.
And I needed her alive.
We stood in what had once been a market square, back when this village had a name and people who called it home. Now the buildings were hollow shells, roofs caved in, walls scorched with patterns that formed shapes I deliberately avoided studying too closely. The fountain at the center had run dry decades ago, leaving cracked stone and a faint lingering scent of sulfur.
