Page 90 of Shadows of Change

I want to believe it’s that simple. But deep down, I know this is something far darker than I want to imagine.

60. Kaia

"Huh," Finn says as we enter Malrik's room. "I was right about the black silk sheets. Classic brooding vibe. Do you practice brooding in here, or is it just natural?"

"Finn." Malrik's voice carries a warning, but there's a flush creeping up his neck.

"What? I'm just appreciating the aesthetic. Very broody prince of darkness. Very you."

I try not to look at the bed at all, but my shadows apparently have no such restraint. Patricia is literally taking notes on the decor while Finnick bounces experimentally on the mattress.

"If we could focus," Aspen says, though his lips twitch. "Preferably before Kaia spontaneously combusts." My cheeks burn as I glance around, avoiding their eyes. Why does everyone insist on making this more embarrassing than it already is? Even my shadows seem to mock me, their flickering shapes hinting at silent laughter. Traitors.

I snap my gaze away from where Malrik is shrugging off his outer robe, revealing a criminally well-fitted shirt underneath. "I'm not—I mean, I'm fine."

"Sure you are, sunshine." Torric drops into a plush armchair, grinning. "That's why you're drooling."

I am not drooling. Okay, maybe I am, just a little.

"Can we please," I say through gritted teeth, "focus on the potentially life-threatening situation?"

"Right." Finn sprawls across the foot of Malrik's bed like he owns it. "The whole 'Thorne might be working with an evil soul binding madman thing. Much less interesting than—ow!"

A book has mysteriously flown off the shelf and hit him in the head. Malrik looks far too innocent.

"The ritual Alekir attempted," Malrik continues smoothly, ignoring Finn's dramatic pouting, "required specific circumstances. A convergence of power that only happens—"

"During the new moon," Aspen finishes, studying one of the texts. "Which is..."

"Three weeks away," I realize, my fingers brushing against my necklace without thinking. The subtle weight of the pendant feels heavier as Malrik’s expression darkens.

"Well that's not ominous at all," Finn mutters, now using Malrik's expensive pillows to build some kind of fort. "Hey, anyone else notice how Thorne always wears high collars? Maybe he's hiding evil ritual tattoos. Or a hickey from Alenya's mom."

"Finn!"

"What? I'm processing through humor. It's very healthy."

"Nothing about you is healthy," Malrik says, but there's a fondness in his voice that makes Finn beam.

"Your shadows agree with me," Finn points out. "Look, they're already planning battle strategies."

He's not wrong. Bob has gathered the others for what appears to be a tactical briefing, complete with Patricia's detailed shadow diagrams and Finnick's enthusiastic but questionable suggestions.

Aspen sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as Torric squints at the shadows’ activity. "I hate that I can feel the chaos even if I can’t see it."

"You get used to it," I say absently, my gaze lingering on Malrik. His demeanor is steady, but there’s a tension to his movements that sets my nerves on edge. My shadows shift closer to him, as if trying to anchor us both.

"They grow on you," Malrik murmurs, then freezes as if he didn't mean to say it aloud.

His tone softened at that and I can’t help but think of what it means to me that he’s accepting of them.

An awkward silence falls, broken only by Mouse's amused purring.

I clear my throat but pause as movement catches my eye. A new shadow materializes near the others, its edges wavering uncertainly, as if testing its welcome. Linda immediately abandons her diagrams, drifting over with an air of fascination, while Steve bounces toward the newcomer, his exaggerated movements inviting chaos.

The shadow tilts slightly, observing them, before darting under Malrik’s desk.

“Well, hello there,” Finn coos, crouching to peer beneath the desk. “Who’s this sneaky little void?”

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