“What do you propose then?” Sariah asks.
“I’ll alert my spies on the other side. Start sending people in, inconspicuously. Small groups that can cross undetected. Disguised as merchants, whores, Faes looking for a quick vampiric fuck, you know, the usual motley variety that wanders into our kingdom. They can all gather in Bradvva, a few hours from the border. We’ll cross with them. But you shouldn’t pull all your spies from this kingdom. If you have eyes and ears inside the royal court, that’s exactly what we need to find out what their plans are.”
“No,” Soren answers immediately. “I won’t leave my people behind. Sariah, you go with him and the first group. Don’t stop until Sangeries. I’ll stay behind and make sure the others cross safely and come with the last group.”
“Then we split and go ahead. I’ll make sure we reach the castle as fast as we can,” I say.
“Sounds like a plan, pretty boy,” Sariah answers. “Look at you; you might not be so incompetent after all.”
I burst out laughing whole-heartedly.
“Oh, moonlight, you just say the word, and I’ll show you just how competent I can be,” I say, wiggling my eyebrows lewdly.
A protective growl comes from Soren’s throat, and the murderous look he’s throwing me is nothing but telling.
“Right, I’ll go prepare the voyage before your guard dog of a brother here drowns me in my blood.”
Sariah’s demure giggle brings to the surface another wave of pleasurable tingles in my body.
I’m probably screwed, aren’t I?
Chapter 6
Aimee
“Fuckingfocusalready,Aimee!”
Killian’s annoyed voice floats from the other end of the training hall, where he stands, posture tense and rigid, arms crossed, and a deep frown etched into his beautiful, stupid face.
“I am focusing, you despotic vampire,” I huff in frustration.
It’s been a few days since that disastrous night. My shadows returned at the crack of dawn, sated and completely shameless for the unhinged display of rapture. I had a lingering thought of chastising them for the humiliation, but as I am quickly learning, they have a mind of their own when it comes to Killian and his crimson double.
My plan was to hide in my room and sleep the embarrassment away, but that idea went up in flames soon too, when Killian knocked on my door a few hours later, announcing stone-faced that I have five minutes to get dressed for shadow travel training. At least he came himself and didn’t send Nella to fetch me like the previous time.
He’s been training me in person for the last couple of days, basically working me into the ground, but nothing is fucking happening. No matterhow hard I focus, and no matter how much I try to follow his instructions, I just can’t make it work.
“It doesn’t seem to me that you are. You can’t even contain your shadows to stop frolicking with mine,” he says, pointing with a smirk at the wall behind me. I glance over my shoulder, and of course there she is, my shadow double, grinding like a cat in heat against Shadow Killian. They are both so engrossed in each other—in their own sinful bubble—as if the outside world doesn’t exist. As if we don’t exist.
“It’s not like you can restrain yours any better, Killian. Look at your double all over mine. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you are even enjoying this.”
That wipes his irksome smirk off his face for good.
“Less talk, more work, Aimee,” he says with a disgruntled tone. “We don’t have all the time in the world.”
I bite back the retort that’s barely hanging on the tip of my tongue and close my eyes, trying to see the room through my mind’s eye, just like Killian instructed.
He said I should start small, with a place I know well, a place I’ve been spending a lot of time in. We agreed to keep it simple, to just the other side of the training hall, where he’s currently standing.
To envision my destination and call forth my shadows, channeling them as a conduit of sorts.
I focus on the corner of the room, seeing it take shape behind my closed eyelids. The dark mats covering the floor, soft enough to protect from injury, but firm and providing a good grip to outmaneuver your attacker. Wooden benches stand by the far wall, where I was sitting with Blaise at the beginning of my training just a few months ago, catching my breath and wondering if I would ever survive an onpyr attack. The gray walls adorned with all sorts of dangerous weaponry.
I also envision Killian, with his unnerving onyx eyes fixed on me and his midnight strands tousled by repeatedly dragging his hands through hishair as he barks orders at me. His gravel like voice still brings my blood to a boiling point, and I would love nothing more than to blink myself into existence next to him and punch him square in his face.
Or kiss him stupid.
Maybe both.
