Tension drains from the Shadow’s shoulders, as if the topic change relieves him. “Yes. If anything tries to hurt you out here, anything at all, I want you to stab it. Stab it until it’s dead, all right? Then stab it five more times, just to be sure.”
I force a swallow. “That’s… Okay. Sure.”
He hesitates, then grabs the sheathed dagger and rises. He holds out the weapon, which attaches with a leather belt. “Can I?”
I eye him, then the dagger. “No. I’ll do it myself.”
His lips thin, but I take the belt and loop it around my hips, pulling the end through the buckle. Which accomplishes nothing, because it doesn’t fit. Why would it? It’s his. Even the smallest setting is much too large.
“Please,” he says, watching my frustrated tampering. “Let me help you.”
I fiddle a moment longer, then glance at my orb bracelet, which shows me the starlit hourglass, sand trickling through its waist. Most of my time still remains, but it runs shorter by the second. “Fine. Go ahead.”
He reaches for the buckle, and I yank my hands back, knowing what will happen if we touch. How easily I’ll lose myself. Even now, with him standing this close, a silky promise pulls at me, whispering of heat and unity and the incomparable ecstasy of surrender.
I shake my head, clearing the invasive thoughts.
The Shadow tugs at my belt, using his claw to poke a new hole before threading the metal prong through. I stare straight ahead, not trusting myself to look at him. Except I end up watching the flex and bunch of his chest, the striation of each muscle as he cinches the belt tight.
Ishanna help me.
His fingers fall away, his brows pushingtogether as he stares down at me. “I could help you, you know. At night. We could navigate the maze together.”
I take a giant step back, ignoring the whoosh of green sparkles that spout up around my boot. “No. I came in here to getawayfrom you. Not get closer.”
He tenses as if holding back a flinch. “All right. But I can’t let you get hurt. Ican’t. I’d rather send you through the Aethrolian door myself than let this place put even a scratch on your skin.” His voice breaks on the last word.
I study him. And against all logic, I actually consider it. But as I stand there, his scent creeps into my nose, bathing my brain, tightening around me like a fist.
He feels it, too, I can tell. This…needsinging in the air between us. He hides it better than he usually does, but his hands flex at his sides, his claws curling and uncurling. And while he might have control of himself now, I know it won’t last.
Itcan’t.
“No,” I say. Forget trusting him—I don’t trust myself. And I can’t spend another minute here, letting my human senses acclimate to this mate bond. “I’m doing this on my own.”
“What? Why can’t I help you?”
“Because.” Now that I’ve decided, there’s no point arguing. “You’re not even wearing clothes. Now back up. I’m going that way, and I’m not about to put my back to you.” I point past his shoulder.
He opens his mouth, then shuts it again with a click of his fangs. But he does as I ask, padding backward, allowing me to move into the forest without closing the distance between us. Puffs of green glitter fountain up around his bare feet.
My new dagger bumps against my leg, its weight unfamiliar but oddly reassuring. I scan for the tree-door from last time, but see no sign.
“I only left my armor behind so you can stab me,” he says, “if you need to. So you’ll have a clear path to my heart. This is the best access, right here. Between these two ribs.” His claws tap his chest.
My steps fumble, my ankle nearly turning, but I correct at the last moment. “Don’t tell me that. I’m not going to kill you.”
He frowns, genuine horror in his eyes. “You have to, though. If Icome for you again, don’t hesitate. Look what I’ve done to you already.” He gestures toward my mostly healed leg.
“I hate to break it to you,” I say, “but you’redefinitelygoing to come for me again. I’ll just…run. Hide. I don’t know. But I’m not going to kill you.”
His expression darkens. “That’s a terrible plan.”
Cold laughter burbles up. “Do you have a better one?”
“Yes. Go through every door you can, during the day. The labyrinth is always shifting, always changing, and I hunt by scent. Every portal you go through…by the time I reach it, it won’t lead to the same place. I won’t be able to follow, and I’ll have to find your trail again, start all over.”
I absorb that, etching the words into my memory. “Okay. That’s…incredibly helpful, actually. Thank you.”
