Page 84 of Shadows of Change

"Exactly!" Finn beams. "See? The naming system makes perfect sense."

Malrik pinches the bridge of his nose. "We are not naming every shadow that manifests."

"Try and stop me, princeling. Besides, Bob and Patricia approve. Look at them nodding."

Sure enough, both shadows are nodding emphatically while Finnick eggs Steve on in the background.

I sink onto the couch, trying to process this new development. "So they're just... appearing? And joining up with mine?"

“They’re responding to your magic evolving," Malrik explains, his gaze tracking Steve's latest backflip attempt. "But it’s more than that. Shadows gravitate toward what protects them. You’re... building something here, Kaia. Whether you realize it or not.”

"Like a tiny shadow army," Finn says cheerfully. "Bob's their commander. Patricia handles intelligence. Finnick's in charge of chaos—"

"That's your influence," Malrik mutters, but there's something soft in his voice when he looks at Finn.

"You love it," Finn shoots back, his grin sharp but his eyes warm.

The air between them crackles with tension. My shadows—all of them, even the new ones—go suddenly still and watchful. Even Finnick stops causing havoc to pay attention.

"You two are ridiculous," I say, but my voice comes out breathier than intended. "We're supposed to be planning—"

"Oh, Bob's got plans," Finn assures me, his gaze flickering between Malrik and me. "Detailed ones. Patricia's taking notes."

Sure enough, the scholarly shadow appears to be transcribing something in the air, while Bob directs the newer shadows into what looks suspiciously like battle formations.

"Should we be concerned that your shadows are plotting strategy without us?" Malrik asks, moving to sit beside me on the couch. The proximity sends a jolt through me, and my shadows ripple in response.

"Probably," I manage. "But I'm more concerned about why Finnick is teaching the new ones to pick locks."

"That's my boy," Finn says proudly, just as Finnick successfully opens a cabinet across the room. Three new shadows immediately dive in to explore its contents.

"We're doomed," Malrik declares, but he's fighting a smile.

"Admit it," Finn says, sliding off his chair to join us on the couch, effectively bracketing me between them. "You love our little shadow family."

"I tolerate you both," Malrik corrects, but his hand brushes mine where it rests between us.

"Both of us?" Finn's voice drops lower, and suddenly the room feels too warm. "Just tolerate?"

Bob, ever helpful, dims the remaining candles. Patricia hustles the newer shadows out of view, like a chaperone clearing the room. Even Finnick goes suspiciously quiet.

"I hate everyone in this room," I announce to no one in particular. "Including the shadows."

"No, you don't," Finn and Malrik say together, and the synchronization sends a shiver down my spine.

My heart pounds as Finn and Malrik crowd closer on either side. The air feels thick, charged with possibility. The pull I feel toward them both is undeniable, but it’s terrifying too—letting them in, letting anyone in, feels like a risk I don’t know how to take. And yet, I can’t seem to pull away.

"You two are impossible," I mutter, but I don't move away.

"Impossibly charming," Finn quips, his breath warm against my ear.

"Impossibly frustrating," Malrik counters, his fingers tracing patterns on my wrist.

A shiver runs through me. My shadows dance excitedly, swirling around us in dizzying patterns. Even Bob seems to have abandoned his usual decorum, creating heart shapes that pulse in time with my racing pulse.

"Traitors," I tell them, but there's no heat in it.

Finn chuckles, the sound vibrating through me. "They're just being honest. Unlike some people."

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