Page 56 of Shadows in Bloom

His voice only further fueled my rage, and as if sensing this, he laughed. His condescending laughter continued as the second shadow hand reached for the man to Alandris’ right, grabbing at his ankles and dragging him across the floor to my feet as he thrashed against its hold.

“You-you will never know rest. We will always find you,” the man choked out, blood dribbling down the corner of his mouth.

I forced myself to look into his eyes, and that was when I noticed the familiarity. The man struggling beneath me was the man we’d met in the tavern. The man who’d tried to separate me from my friends, taking advantage of my drunken nature. Silas. They’d been following me all this time. Writing to Lyandril hadn’t brought these men down upon us as I’d initially worried—they had been watching me all along, and I didn’t know if that made me feel more or less guilty. I only knew I felt one thing for certain—disgust.

“I will never be a captive again,” I spat out.

He smirked, struggling through coughs to speak. “You’ve never been free, sad little monster.”

Silas used his last ounce of strength to swipe for me with his blade, to no avail, as my shadows swerved in front of me, forming a shield at my legs. His dagger had barely nicked me, but he smiled like he’d made a killing blow. Even as he died, the tendrils choking out every spark of light, he smiled.

The clangs of metal and magic had stopped, leaving nothing but the sound of ragged breathing and ringing in my head.One look toward Alandris indicated he’d had no trouble in the one-on-one duel with his opponent. Not much remained of his foe, but the smell of burning flesh was tainting the air, and I knew his fire had ended the man’s life. It was done.

It should have repulsed me, all the death and destruction around us, but I only felt anger. The part of me that was gentle and kind was overpowered by the part of me that was drowning in hatred. Because it was never supposed to be like this. If there had been a choice, I wouldn’t have chosen this life. And I was so, so angry that experiencing vindication against the individuals who had wished for my death brought instant gratification. It made me feel alive. That-that was the only thing that disgusted me. Me.

I took in a long, deep breath. My physical being was exhausted and barely able to move, but my spirit had never been more invigorated. Confined for so long, the magic in my veins was thriving now that I had unleashed it. I knew this was only a fraction of what I was capable of. Only a sliver of what the monster’s magic could do. This is why they wanted me dead, and why he so desperately wanted me alive. Magic without a vessel to wield it was powerless.

You are mine.

It was a whispered reminder from the beast dwelling within, but my response was loud. “I am mine. This magic will be mine, too. It is you whoI do not need.”

I ignored the voice in my head and looked at Alandris, expecting him to be horrified with what I’d done, but it wasn’t horror I found there in his face. It was relief.

He crossed the space between us before I could blink, taking my face in his hands. “Nairu, my love, are you alright?”

“No.”

Chapter 29

Iwas not alright. Not in the slightest. But there was no time to dwell on the negative thoughts plaguing my mind, no time to explain everything I’d learned about my past and present, no time to melt into the warmth of Alandris’s touch and pretend everything was fine. Our friends were out there fighting a foe that I was responsible for bringing to their doorstep, and I’d be damned if I let them get hurt because of me.

“We need to check on Kaz. I left him alone,” I hastily explained the situation we’d found ourselves in. “There were twelve of them in total. They used magic to get in somehow, but I don’t know what kind.”

Alandris didn’t hesitate. “Right. Let’s go.”

We were off running in an instant, although keeping up with Alandris’ pace was a challenge for me. I was still winded from sprinting the first time, not to mention the amount of magic Ihad tapped into while fighting off Silas and the other man. I’d felt incredibly powerful in the moment, but the repercussions of utilizing that much magic were wreaking havoc on every inch of my body. Everything ached. Painful, painful aches, but I refused to be the reason we lagged behind.

Inhale. Exhale. Focus.I repeated the words over and over like a mantra until we were finally at the entrance to the main cavern… or where it should have been.

“Did we—did we make a wrong turn?” I bent over, bracing my weight against my legs as I drew in shuddering breaths.

Alandris ran his hands along the rocks that were now blocking the route out of the tunnel. The entire area was covered in dust and debris, as if the ceiling had collapsed in on itself. Any attempts Alandris made to shift the rocks and claw his way out only resulted in more rocks tumbling down from above. Whether this was done intentionally or accidentally, we were trapped. We weren’t saving anyone.

He cursed, running a hand through his long, black hair as he paced. “If I use my magic, I’m only going to make this worse.” A bitter laugh left his lips. “I have no affinity for such magic—creating things or mending things. Some Arch Magus I would make.”

He didn’t need to say it aloud for me to know my magic would be no different. Shadow and flame. Our magic destroyed.

“We could look for another way through,” I offered. “I didn’t check the path that veered right at the fork back there. There’s achance that all of these tunnels connect to one another. Perhaps we can reach them if we keep pressing forward.”

“It’s worth a shot. Let’s try.” He winced as he turned to take off, and I stopped him with a hand to his chest.

“Let me examine your wound first. I’ll be quick, and then we can check the other path afterward.” He had run so steadily, I’d forgotten the sheer amount of blood drenching his tunic. I’d missed the signs. The paleness of his skin. The light sheen of sweat on his chest and neck. “Now,” I insisted, as reluctance filled his eyes.

Alandris pressed his lips into a thin line. After a grumble or two of protest, he gave in and slid down to the ground, leaning his back against the wall. “It’s not so awful.”

I cocked a brow in doubt as I pulled open the laces of his shirt. I’d be the judge of just how awful it was, and based on the amount of blood I was seeing, I was willing to bet he was wrong in his assessment. The further down I tugged the fabric, the worse it looked.

“Can you remove your shirt?”

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