Page 71 of A Shadow of Betrayal

“What? No, but I've seen it on my friend's weapons. Are you certain?” I ask, and Valen nods, bringing a hand up to his chin as he stares at the weird symbol in the dirt.

“Yes. Because it's a symbol used in the Demonic realm. This symbol”—Valen points to it in the dirt—“is the reason I was at the Rift, trying to seal it before more Beastia made it through. If the Umbra Hunters have access to it and are actively using it, then the world is in far greater danger than I thought it was,” he murmurs, looking a little sick at the idea.

“Are you sure?” I ask, and Valen nods again, then curses while standing up and running his hand through his perfectly placed blond hair.

“What does it mean?” I ask, looking at the weird symbol and then back at Valen.

“That is the shadow symbol. One that only strong Demons can use. The Seniorem is trying to lure powerful Demons to this side of the veil,” Valen says, more to himself than to me.

“What for? We are trying to kill Demons. Why would they want to lure in even stronger ones?” I ask, his story not adding up. Valen looks at me with an arched brow, and it clicks.

“Magic,” I whisper.

“Magic,” Valen confirms, then swears again. “But I doubt they know who they call. That symbol… It's not good, Mi Sol,” Valen rasps, but he doesn't look very distraught about that fact.

“Meyer?” someone says, then wiggles my shoulder. Valen’s eyes widen, and he steps toward me, a sad look in his eyes, my name on his lips as darkness closes in around me, and I gasp, tensing when I open my eyes to a dimly lit room. Strong arms tighten around me as fingers stroke softly through my hair.

“Valen?”

“Hey, Lemon Drop,” Creed rasps in my ear as he nuzzles into my neck. He's completely wrapped around me, my back to his front as he snuggles in close. “Who are you dreaming about, Sleeping Beauty? Are you having dreams of me?” he asks, chuckling a little.

“Hmm? Oh, no… Just normal dreams,” Creed kisses my neck again, and I sigh, trying to wake up.

“Time to wake up. Nox wanted everyone in the training arena before sunrise.”

My heart is pounding as I try to wake up; not used to being yanked out of a dream like that. I swallow and nod, relaxing into Creed's hold, letting him soothe my frazzled nerves.

“Are you alright?” he asks, and I nod.

“Yeah,” I whisper, as his lips brush along the back of my neck. I shiver and close my eyes again, Valen’s words running through my mind on repeat as Creed slowly turns me in his arms and presses a soft kiss to my lips. His touch is enough to distract me from my racing thoughts, and I sink into him, moving my lips against his, loving the feeling of safety Creed's arms provide.

“You were talking in your sleep,” he whispers against my lips. I smile and kiss him again.

“Oh… I was? What did I say?” Creed looks at me, his eyes moving from my eyes to my hair as he reaches out and fingers a lock of my pale blonde hair.

“Such a rare color,” he whispers, and I blush and nod.

“Yeah, everyone thinks I dye it, but I got it from my mother.”

“It’s beautiful,” Creed whispers. “Reminds me of a dear friend of mine.” Creed smiles, then pushes my hair back and bends forward, kissing my lips softly. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

THIRTY-SEVEN

Meyer

“What?!” I shout, looking up at Razar, trying to see past the hood he has drawn over his face, before looking at Lennox and shaking my head. “No!” my eyes bounce between the brothers, and I cross my arms over my chest, glaring at the one currently trying to make my life a living hell. “Absolutely not. I want Jordan.” I glance over at my friend, who is currently running an absurd number of laps around the track, and Lennox smirks.

“I don’t care what you want. You need more training and Umbra Regalis,” Lennox nods at Razar, who stays silent. “Is the best there is in the castle. So that’s who will be training you from here on out,” Lennox snaps and nods at Razar, giving him a stern look before turning to walk away. “No broken bones, Raz. She can’t heal herself,” Lennox tosses over his shoulder, and I blink at him in shock before slowly looking back at the terrifying Umbra Hunter standing next to me.

Clapping my hands together nervously, I wait for his instruction, but after a moment passes and he still only stares. Coughing, I shift on my feet and then sigh. I really don't have time for this bullshit. “Right… well, I guess we’re done here?” I offer and smile, turning on my heel to stride away. But before I can move, a big hand wraps around my wrist and tugs me back. Glaring, I look at Razar, who lets go of my wrist and moves into a fighting stance, his fist raised in front of him and his feet shoulder-width apart.

“That's it?” I ask, slowly raising my hands. “You're going to fight me, but not talk?” I question, then jump back in surprise when Razar moves, his fists flying through the air so fast I don't see them. They land almost gently on my side, neck, then temple like he’s showing me what to do rather than causing any harm.

“Dead,” he says simply, shaking his head like he’s disappointed while eyeing my still raised hands that haven't moved. Razar’s voice is rough and somewhat hard to understand. It's low in pitch, but not in a normal way, almost like he’s not used to talking, and it's grown gravelly from disuse.

“I wasn’t ready,” I snap, irritated by the man who simply raises a hand and moves two fingers, gesturing for me to make a move.

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