Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 156210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
Sylvan scoffs. “You really gave him the stag’s heart? He’s not even your Dark Companion yet.”
As if I’m not here and I’m not worth addressing.
“But he will be. If this is what he needed to feel like my equal, then this is what he got.” Kyran’s voice turns raspy, as if the side he showed me in the shadowild is once again about to crawl out.
“You should track down the assassin. He has to die for what he did to Tristan,” I say, because it seems I need to be the one to let him off the leash. I need to know the bastard who attempted to kill the man I love is no longer a threat. I might not be able to do it myself, but Kyran sure is. I can’t imagine that I could have lost him. The thought alone is so painful my heart tears in half under its invisible knife.
He looks back but doesn’t say anything, so I continue.
“Prince Sylvan will instruct me how to help him.” I can only hope I’m not overestimating my newfound powers when Sylvan’s top lip curls with unwithheld contempt. He doesn’t think I’m worthy of the power Kyran granted me.
Sylvan shakes his head. “I don’t know if it’s wise to—”
“But I do,” Kyran cuts him off and grabs a dagger he had strapped to his boot. His shadow seems to swell, becoming darker, and the smoky swirls wind around his calves as if they can’t wait to hug him again.
I’m not sure what he’s about to do, but he cuts open his sleeve, revealing a shadowy eel sliding over his wrist.
“Will those not be needed more when Heartbreak—” Sylvan tries, but Kyran has made his decision.
He pinches the eel and picks it off his skin. His eyes fill with darkness like they had in the shadowild. He grabs Gloomdancer, unsheathes it, and approaches Sylvan in two steps.
Sylvan yelps when Kyran drives it into the ground between him and me.
“Stay. Guard,” Kyran orders… the sword as if it were a dog, and shadows erupt from it to both sides like a wall. He then turns to look at Sylvan with unsettling black eyes. The darkness inside them overflows and spills down his cheeks like tears made of liquid obsidian. “Instruct him how to help you. Attempt to cross this boundary or hurt him in any way, and you will suffer before I kill you, in ways you cannot even fathom. Do you understand me, Prince Sylvan?”
As he speaks, the wall grows to become a small shadow dome.
“B-but your sword…” I utter, not wanting him to lose any advantage in the fight to come.
“I’ll manage,” Kyran says and leans in through the barrier to give me the sweetest kiss, which doesn’t belong on the lips of a man about to commit murder. “Stay safe, my promised.”
“Make him pay,” I whisper when he backs away.
He takes a deep breath, and even Sylvan’s eyes go wide when shadows embrace more of Kyran’s form, making him grow in size. He disappears between the trees, on the hunt for prey who believed themselves to be predators.
It’s strange to be alone with Sylvan, and the silence stretches between us until he huffs with discomfort, holding his palms up. He kneels on the other side of Tristan, right behind the semi-transparent wall of shadow. Kyran protects me even when he's gone, and that makes my heart a little calmer.
“Hold your palms up,” Sylvan says with his eyes fixed on Tristan. “I will transfer some of the weight, but you need to be open to it.”
“H-how?”
Sylvan’s white brows gather into a frown. “Just mentally. You just have to want to accept it. You are not picking it up, but helping me hold it, so I’m transferring it to you. It will feel like physical weight, that’s what a lot of shadowcraft is like. You learn to use the shadow as an additional source of strength, but you also need to be fit to carry it in some instances—like this one. It can feel counterintuitive at the start, and it will leave your muscles exhausted.”
I nod, assessing the illusive box enveloping Tristan. A strange, but manageable weight lands in my hands. It feels like we’re holding a table together.
“Then… is it best to be physically strong in order to use shadowcraft effectively? Is that why your skill at it is lower than your brother and sister’s? Because you’re small?”
I wasn’t intending to offend him, just trying to make sense of new information and how it might affect my future. But Sylvan’s gaze pierces me like a dagger made of ice.
“Shut up,” he says, and when an invisible weight drops into my open palms I swear he’s added more to spite me.
Chapter 35
Kyran
Power tastes very much like rare meat, with a bit of char to keep the senses sharp, and a sweet glaze for indulgence. There’s a hint of personality in it too, but I can no longer recognize who grew the energy running through my veins, even though I’ve been wearing it on my skin in the form of an eel for a while.