Her certainty should settle me. Instead, a knot tightens in my chest. Always fine. Always strong. Always making the right choices.
I take the wine and swirl it in my hands, watching the firelight catch against the surface. “What if I’m not? What if…what if I make a mistake?” I whisper before I can stop myself.
They exchange a glance. Not pity, thank the stars, but worry all the same.
Torin clears his throat and straightens, reaching for the scattered cards. “Then I suppose Alira and I will just have to clean up whatever mess you leave behind.”
“Rude,” Alira says, smacking his arm.
I laugh, the tension easing for a moment. Their ridiculousness and easy banter aresafe and familiar. For a heartbeat, it almost works.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t stop my mind from going back to the men fighting for their lives.
I didn’t tell either of them that I sent a shadow with Koen.
I only sent one because I can’t spare more. It would be pushing my limits, holding connections with so many of my shadows from so far away. I haven’t pushed those limits since the war.
Since losingKallan.
Since my shadows whispered his name every time I tried to wield them. Once, our magic had danced together like twin flames, strengthening one another. Now mine feels jagged and unstable.
I wanted to send a shadow with each man. But only one could go, and I chose to send it with Koen. Why? I don’t really know. He is irritating and arrogant, but he is also brave and stubborn.
So, no. I didn’t tell them. I’m not ready to say it aloud. Not when I don’t understand it myself.
Torin is shuffling the deck again when my shadows move.
I freeze.
Black smoke curls around me. They wrap around my legs, my wrists, and my shoulders. Not squeezing, but urging me.
Torin scrambles back. “What the—? Serenya?”
Alira stands up fast, wine forgotten. “Are those—? What’s happening?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t summon them,” I whisper.
My heart beats wildly. My shadows never move like this without my command. Well, unless they are trying to get to…Koen.I close my eyes and reach for the shadow I sent with him. It isn’t like seeing through my own eyes. It is fragmented, like a shattered mirror that has been put back together.
I see him knee deep in murky water, his shirt plastered to his chest with sweat and grime, his blade drawn, eyes scanning.
Something is wrong. He’s moving like a predator, butthere’s a wildness in it. Raw, untrained, and desperate.
My breath catches as a massive black scorpion launches from the water beside him, clicking violently, then diving beneath the surface before Koen can strike.
Gods, Koen.
He slashes the next time it attacks, and his sword scrapes against its shell; a scream tears from the creature’s throat before it disappears again.
He is going to die. That thing will wear him down, one slash at a time, until—
The image jolts violently as he shoves the blade deep into the scorpion’s belly during its third strike. The moment freezes. Water and chitin. Sparks and blood. Then it collapses.
I exhale, only now realizing I had been holding my breath. I just watch, frowning and confused. Why am I relieved? It isn't just the trials. Yes, I want him to live. But not for duty. For...
I shake my head. Nope. He is arrogant and reckless and irritating when he speaks. And I don’t like the way he looks at me when he thinks I’m not watching.
The view changes again. Koen is now crouched on a slab of stone, blood on his arm, sword in his hand. My vision jolts slightly as my shadow follows his gaze.
