“First time?” I mutter the words to myself as I try to find my footing, but it’s easier once the darkness begins to fade.
It retreats, revealing a familiar scene.
Moss, towering trees, the faint scent of rain. Almost exactly as it had been that night, the soft glow from the howl now buried alongside Grey.
“You…”
I choke on the words as my stomach churns.
All this time, and he was right in front of me.
“He wasn’t supposed to be here,” he explains. “But it’s okay, this will be just as special.”
Covington takes a few steps back, posturing in the center of the clearing he’s dropped me in, and as he idles, I understand why he was always standing in Deacon’s shadow.
If anyone had seen his, there would have been no hiding what he is.
Covington’s shadow is huge, twice the size it should be, and writhing like worms burrowing into the earth. The telltale mark of a shadow weaver.
“We can be together now,” he says, smiling in earnest.
“I belong to Elliot,” I remind him. “I’m claimed.”
The shadows pooling at his feet grow agitated as I defy his order, and I watch as he rips his shirt from his chest, revealing the thick black tattoos, which are no tattoos at all.
They are moving across his body, lifting off his skin and hanging like black tentacles in the air.
“Not for long,” he clarifies.
My blood runs cold at the look of sheer excitement on his face.
“What have you done?” I snap.
“I fixed it,” he says. “I was really hoping the truth serum would be enough for Cross just to kill him, but…” his eyes roll, and he waves a hand as if this is just a minor nuisance. “It’s nothing a little nightlock couldn’t handle. With Cross’s record, they’ll lock him in a dungeon and throw away the key for the rest of eternity, and he’ll be forced by pack rule to give up his claim. Then it’ll be just you and me.”
He smiles once more. This one dripping in lust, so thick I have to clear my throat just to breathe through it.
“I thought Deacon was your friend,” I say, trying to keep him talking.
I have no way of knowing if Dame has picked up, but even if he has, he’ll need time to find me. I need time.
“So did I!” he snaps. “But he knew how I felt about you. Heknew! And he still touched you, he still talked to you. He still wanted you!”
His hand sweeps over my face, fingers rough and clammy as he rubs my cheek.
“But it’s okay,” he says. “We can be together now.”
I wrench my face free, backing out of his range.
“What makes you think I would accept your claim?” I hiss.
But I know I have made a grave mistake in underestimating Covington as his shadows retrieve a small vial of mysterious liquid from his pocket. Although not so mysterious that I can’t guess what it is.
“I worked out the kinks,” he says, shaking the tiny bottle. “This is much more potent. Should work just fine.”
“Covington…wait, don’t?—”
His shadows reach for me, and I step back. But it’s too late. There’s nowhere to run.
