Page 22 of Court of Aether and Shadows

Physical exertion had always been my go-to method for clearing my head. Maybe if I pushed my body hard enough, I could drown out the whispers of that other world that kept calling to me.

I can only hope. This isn’t the time to show weakness.

I wasn’t sure if Liam was around, so I didn’t want to put myself in a position where I’d need to rely on anyone else. With that being said, I’d be no good tossing and turning in my scratchy cot.

A bit of movement will get the blood circulating. I’m sure that will help with this blasting headache from hell.

The gym was deserted at this late hour, the cavernous space filled only with the hum of fluorescent lights and the faint whir of air conditioning.

The scent of sweat and metal hung in the air, a familiar comfort. I was always someone who enjoyed picking up on the various scents around me. I never really understood why or the importance revolving around it, but I also didn’t hate it.

I’d accepted it was a trait that just made me unique, which now being in this field makes me favored.

Loyalty. Hmph. What’s the point of all that when you’re nothing but a tool to be used and abused?

I made my way to the heavy bag in the corner, not bothering with wraps or gloves. I wanted to feel every impact, to ground myself in the reality of flesh and bone.

Taking a few deep breaths to center myself, I zone out the world around me — my focus on the hanging bag that was now my marked target.

As I fell into the familiar rhythm of punches and kicks, I let my mind wander.

What was happening to me? These dreams and visions felt more real than the world around me sometimes. And the Shadow Prince...who is he? A lover? A commitment worth venturing for?

Just the thought of him sent a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with fear. I’d be lying if I pretended the pleasure he delivered with each interaction didn’t leave me breathless and wet the moment I woke up, every single time.

The amount of cold showers and thrown-out panties, soaked in my slick have made my spending go up lately. The thought makes me smirk while I try to tell myself the next time I see him, I should tell him to give me some money to invest in better underwear and pay my share of the hydro.

My smile only grows.

I landed a particularly vicious roundhouse kick, the bag swaying wildly on its chain. The pain that shot through my leg was oddly satisfying, a reminder that I was still here, still human.

I can still fight…feel…be valuable in my own unique way.

My knuckles were split and bleeding, leaving smears of crimson on the black leather of the bag. I was panting heavily, drenched in sweat, and vibrating with exhilaration, proving I was alive and wouldn’t allow my spark to be stolen just because people like Vincent or Marco didn’t see my value.

Only see my worth now because others are inquiring. Funny.

Even as I tried to focus on the physical sensations and the burdens of my current circumstance, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched.

My instincts, honed by years on the streets and in this underground world, were screaming at me that something was off. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, a prickle of awareness racing across my skin.

I spun away from the bag, scanning the gym with narrowed eyes. The shadows in the corners seemed deeper than they should be, writhing and shifting in ways that defied natural law. And there, just at the edge of my vision – a flash of movement, a glint of eyes in the darkness.

I froze, my heart pounding in my chest, and blood roaring in my ears.

Slowly, I turned towards the source of the movement, every muscle tensed for action. What I saw made my breath catch in my throat, my eyes widening further to take in the sight.

A creature crouched in the shadows, its form fluid and indistinct. It was vaguely lupine in shape, but far larger than any wolf I'd ever seen.

Its body seemed to be made of living shadow, wisps of darkness curling off its form like smoke. But its eyes... its eyes were unmistakably intelligent, fixed on me with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

They glowed with an inner fire, gold and red like the embers of a dying sun.

I blinked, and in that instant, it was gone.

The shadows were just shadows again, the gym empty with just me and the equipment. Yet, the feeling of being watched lingered, raising goosebumps along my arms.

"What the fuck," I whispered, running a shaky hand through my sweat-damp hair. Was I going crazy? Hallucinating from stress and lack of sleep?

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