Page 28

There, standing beside the fading glow of the archer I’d killed, was Skul Drek.

Roark.

“You’re here.” In the mirror, even my cry sounded hushed, almost dark.

The sharp copper eyes of Skul Drek glared up at me from beneath his misty cowl. His vicious teeth flashed in the shadows.

Movement was strange in the mirror world. One moment I would be still, and the next I would be tossed to a new location. I let out a gasp of stun when, all at once, my phantom was pressed against me.

The cold darkness of his body caged me to the wall. One long slate fingertip traced the edge of my jaw. Never had he touched me in such a way. Part of me still feared Skul Drek, but knowing his heart lived in Roark Ashwood, knowing his viciousness belonged to me, I tilted my head, leaning into his touch. Solid. Frigid. Gentle.

“Liars live within the clan of the Soul Render queen.” Skul Drek dragged his finger across the curve of my bottom lip. “They’re not to darken your soul.”

“I don’t want them to. Where are you?” I pressed a palm to the center of his misty chest, hoping he understood.

His dark lips curled. “We hunt you.”

Roark was coming.

Skul Drek’s icy palm held the side of my face, urging me to meet his vicious eyes. “Blood spills for those who would darken you. Their souls will rot.”

I swallowed and held out the bone blade, pointing at the unmoving gleam of the dead archer. “I killed one already, but the other is hidden better and is harder to see with the threads of craft. I’m not certain—”

My words faded when Skul Drek promptly stepped away from me. “Where?”

I hesitated. “The far corner, near the pond. He’s in the tree, but well concealed.”

My head spun when the mirror shifted once more and Skul Drek was gone. For a fleeting moment, I caught sight of the gilded strands of the second archer’s bones, but soon darkness enveloped the light.

Behind the man in the tree, Skul Drek’s glare broke through the shadows.

Darkness thrashed and split into black ropes. My stomach flipped when the Draven archer cried out in agony. His body shuddered, but I could not make out what was happening. Another breath, another moment, and Skul Drek appeared to step through the man. In his grasp was a spool of icy white light.

With his gaze on me in the window, I watched as he coated the beam in his shadows until nothing remained but the pitch of night.

“I will end them before they touch you.” The scrape of his venomous voice filled my thoughts, my heart.

By the gods, he’d…he’d claimed the archer’s soul.

Somewhere beyond the mirror a warm grip curled around my wrist. Little by little, the rotted wood and walls became healthy and polished once more. Floorboards were not chipped and splintered, but smooth and level.

I blinked, knees weak, and leaned into strong arms when they encircled my waist.

My cheek pressed to a tunic that smelled of smoke and blood and the oakmoss on his skin. Chin tilted, I found a bit of steadiness in his golden eyes.

Around Roark’s shoulders were wisps of shadows. Gold flickered with inky black, and the final pieces of the cold mirror realm disappeared.

Still coated in gore from Fillip, Roark looked like a beautiful villain—feral, wild, and maddeningly possessive. His jaw was set, and he touched me with the gentle ferocity I’d come to adore in Stonegate.

Like he wanted to mark me, claim me.

My body sank into him like I might want to let him.

To fall into the trance of Skul Drek always left my limbs weak as straw and my thoughts in a fog. Somewhere through the haze, I lifted a palm to the rough stubble on Roark’s jaw.

“You came.” In every way, Roark had been here for me. Protector. Hunter. Mine.

A muscle ticced in his cheek. His fingers brushed along my face. Always.