Page 3 of Court of Aether and Shadows

"Will you be here when I return?" I asked, hating the vulnerability in my voice.

His smile was both wicked and tender.

"Always,"he promised."I am yours as much as you are mine. Now wake, my sweet mortal. But know that in your darkest moments, I am with you. And when night falls again..."

"I'll find my way back to you," I finished, even as the world began to dissolve around me.

The last thing I felt was the press of his lips against mine, searing and possessive, before reality came crashing back.

I awoke with a gasp, my body aching with unfulfilled desire and my soul yearning for the shadows I'd left behind.

Tears slid down my cheeks as I curled into myself, already counting the hours until I could sleep again. Until I could return to my monster king and the dark paradise where, against all reason, I had found my true home.

In the cold light of dawn, I closed my eyes and whispered a prayer to whatever gods might be listening:

"Let night fall quickly. Let me dream again. Let me return to where I belong."

For in the arms of my crowned monster, I had tasted freedom.

And I would do anything– risk everything– to feel that again.

The Canary’s Song

~SPARROW~

The warehouse loomed before us, a hulking mass of corrugated metal and shadows in the industrial wasteland of the city's outskirts.

I crouched behind a rusted shipping container, my heart pounding with a familiar mix of anticipation and dread. It was insanity to get a high from this constant fight for survival, but this was what kept a roof over my head and food on the table.

This was it.

Another job, another chance to prove my worth to the family that wasn't really mine.

"You ready for this, Sparrow?" Liam

whispered beside me, his lean frame coiled with tension.

My best friend of five years, the only person in this godforsaken world I truly trusted. He flashed me a grin that didn't quite reach those beautiful eyes of cyan and green. Matched with his stunning platinum blonde strands of shoulder-length hair, you’d expect Liam Miles to be a surfer model, making millions in the industry of chiseled hotties and swimming trunks.

I always tell him he’s too hot to be on the streets like this. He’s even lucky his face remains flawless as ever compared to the acne shitshow I always deal with the moment anything nasty touches my flesh.

He hates putting me in dangerous situations, but there’s nothing either of us can do.

This is our livelihood.

"Time to sing for our supper."

I nodded, forcing a smirk.

"Always ready to perform, Darling. You know me."

I have to give him a wink to uplift the mood. I know he can read me like an open book, but a bit of humor in tense situations like this never hurts.

"If you two are done with your little love fest," a nasally voice cuts in, "some of us would like to get this job done before sunrise."

I bit back a retort, turning to face Marco, the third member of our little hit squad.

His rat-like features were twisted in a perpetual sneer, beady black eyes glaring at us from beneath a greasy mop of dark brown hair. Not only was he not my type, but he always had the cockiest attitude. As if he’s the leader of our unit when he can barely carry out a mission without screwing up somehow.

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