Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 140462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
I reimagine my dainty prince as the sea witch from The Little Mermaid, and saying, “It won’t cost much, just your shadow.”
I gasp at the sight of a narrow wooden door leading into the moonlit yard on the other side of the room, but before I can dash toward it, a wardrobe opens and Fenren whistles at me from behind the curtain of aprons and tablecloths.
“Follow me,” he whispers, and I don’t bother considering whether he’s a friend or foe. He’s not a Nightcloak, and in my book that’s more than enough.
“Thank you so much. I don’t know where I am,” I say when Fenren shuts the door hidden in the back of the wardrobe and picks up a torch.
His gaze scans me, then Sylvan passed out in my arms, and he shakes his head. “I’m only doing this because your groom ruined my tavern, and dead debtors don’t pay. You two better reimburse me once this is all over.”
So much for kindness and pleasant smiles.
I don’t have the strength to answer and follow him down a passage not built with someone my size in mind. But that is the least of my worries. The man I’ve banked my whole future on was flippant with my shadow—my health and life—all because he wanted to show off his newly acquired power. Is that really the boy I fell for so hard? The boy I decided to take so many dumb risks for? Could it be that… my family was right and I once again put my trust in the wrong person?
Going to prison for someone is one thing, but this strange parasitic arrangement? The truth is that I don’t quite know how the shadow bond that felt so good earlier works. Could he drain me at will? Keep me weak? Dispose of me when he’s bored?
Am I only my shadow to him…? After that vow of undying love?
Maybe three days really is too little time to get to know a guy?
Chapter 27
Sylvan
My head feels like a pot being beaten by a metal spoon over and over again. But maybe it’s my stomach that’s the pot, because it’s overflowing, boiling, and I’m vomiting again. I’m half-lucid, and barely remember fragments of what I did at the inn.
Did I really grab Tristan, who is one of the strongest shadow-wielders I know, like a puppet and smash him into a wall? Did I rip his wings off? Fortunately for him, they’re shadow, so he’ll manage to nurture them back to their right form eventually, but still.
“I feel so bad…” I mumble to Hawk, desperate for pity.
We’re in the swamps, the moon is setting as night nears, and the scent of damp earth and leaves, while fresh, does nothing to relieve the violent nausea. I don’t remember how I got here, but Fenren informed me that my new husband carried me all the way from the inn. At least now I can be sure he’s serious about the whole ‘till death do us part vow humans use.
The bench we’re sitting on creaks when we move, but it remains solid, and I’m glad I can use the wall of the cabin to lean my back against.
“Why did you drink so much if you can’t handle it?” Hawk asks, watching the ruins of an ancient aqueduct sink in the murky waters. The moon now appears even bigger than it had midday, but soon enough its eye will disappear beyond the horizon, leaving us all in the dark, at the mercy of beasts.
I look up at him, ashamed of my state. We’re outside a cabin in the middle of a swamp. This remote place functions as a safe house for Fenren and his gang of smugglers. The hut is small, damp, and far from what I could at a stretch call ‘charming’, but it has stone walls and it can protect us from most of the wild creatures roaming the area. At least the frogs outside are providing interesting background noise.
“Um… that’s harsh,” I mumble, looking away from the bucket I’m cradling. I must not appear very princely right now. Is it possible that Hawk is rethinking his choice of husband so soon?
He shrugs and covers himself with the threadbare blanket our host offered him earlier. Both our gazes follow a trail of bubbles emerging on the algae-covered surface of the swamp, but while it initially comes our way, the creature creating the disturbance changes direction.
“I’m just surprised,” Hawk says after a moment of silence that feels strangely tense.
Fenren emerges from the hut and huffs with exasperation as he lifts a torch and moves it in a circular fashion. When nothing happens, he utters a curse and returns indoors. We could have gone way farther from the inn, but his daughter needs to catch up with us first, and now it seems inevitable that we will all need to share the tiny dwelling tonight.