The forest welcomes me with birdsong. Branches part to reveal a field, wild and vibrant. A soft wind stirs my hair as I cross into the sea of glimmering flowers that don’t just shine under the sun, but flare with a pale light. They make the surrounding greenery seem dull by comparison. My boots brush petals that once caught our laughter.
I pause at the edge of the clearing, and my gaze catches on a weathered stone. Kallan had carved our initials into it once, a crooked heart surrounding them. I run my fingers over the faded letters, and my chest tightens.
I press my hand to my heart. An aching emptiness usually follows thoughts of him, but this time, something else lingers there, too.
The memory of Koen’s golden eyes just before he stepped through the portal. The subtle tension in his jaw, the way his magic had shimmered faintly against his skin, like it was trying to escape. A magic I hadn’t seen before.
Why did I get this strange feeling whenever I looked at him? I don’t feel anything like that with the other champions. When I saw him this morning, I forgot that I had spent the night crying. For a moment, when we locked eyes, it felt like he had already won, and my heart just wanted to go right to him. And I did, without thinking. Thank the stars I was able to stop myself from doing something stupid at the last second, but it scared me. I was so caught off guard by the pull I felt towards him that I had forgotten I didn’t even like the man.
I don’t want to feel anything for anyone. But my magic does. Even now, my shadows stir beneath my skin and tug in a way they haven’t in the years since we lost Kallan.
“I won’t betray him,” I whisper to the wind, to my shadows. Maybe just to myself. The wind does not answer, and my shadows don’t stop reaching.
I stay longer than I mean to. The sun begins to set as I step out of the field. A flutter above me cuts through the silence.
My gaze snaps upward just as a black-winged form dives toward me. The bat circles me once, so unnervingly slow, eyeing me with contempt. Then, it drops a small scroll at my feet before flying back off into the trees.
I stare at the crimson wax and the strange shimmer of magic pulsing faintly beneath it. I haven't seen this seal in decades. But I know who it belongs to.
Dimitri. The vampire prince. Now, vampire king.
Dread fills me as I bend and pick up the scroll. I unroll it carefully, ready for poison. Or worse. But there are no threats. Only a single line:
“Come alone. Sundown. The ruins near Elderglen.”
No reason. No signature. Not that I needed one.
I crush the scroll in my fist, pulse racing. Why now?
My first instinct is to ignore it. Toss it into the lake and forget it. Something nags at me, though. Dimitri never does anything without a purpose, and he hasn't once contacted me since the war ended.
…Since I killed his father.
Yet here he is, asking for a secret meeting. And worse, I'm considering it.
I turn the scroll over again, searching for more. Something I might have missed. But there is nothing else. Just the silence of the trees and the soft whistle of thewind.
I should just go back to the palace. I really mean to go back. Instead, my boots take me off the trail and towards Elderglen.
The ruins are quiet when I arrive, silver light from the moon pools between the jagged remains of old stone and tangled roots. Wind blows through the broken archways like voices long gone. A once-beautiful town, destroyed almost a century ago by a group of rogue vampires. I never understood why it hadn’t been rebuilt.
I silently move through the forgotten place, my hood up, my cloak blending with the night. I didn't tell anyone I was leaving the palace. It didn’t take me long to get here with vaelshad—a way to travel from one place to another in an instant, something only those who command shadows can do.
The message didn't say much, only that he wanted to talk. I really should have ignored it. I almost did. I’ve known Dimitri my whole life, even longer than I knew Kallan. Our parents had been close friends before his mother passed away and his father lost his mind from the pain of losing her.
I once considered Dimitri my closest friend, and he had betrayed me in such a painful way. A part of me, the part still raw from that twenty-eight-year-old wound, wanted a reason to face him.
“You always did like crumbling things,” I say, stepping into the center of the overgrown town square.
Dimitri emerges from the shadows, dressed in dark silksand leather. His silver eyes gleam, pale blond hair ruffled by the wind, lips already tilted in a crooked smirk.
“They remind me of you.”
I scoff. “Still charming as ever, I see.”
“And you’re still not nearly as subtle as you think. I heard your heartbeat the moment you arrived.” He tilts his head. “Are you afraid?”
I clench my jaw. “What do you want?”
