Page 28 of Shadows of the Crown

Perhaps the Angel doesn’t loathe me.

The sweat covering my body has cooled, creating a sticky layer over my fingers. They complement the surface of the egg,practically fusing the object to my hand. This was a needed development as the egg is larger than I’d anticipated.

I grip the artifact firmly and slowly lift it from the nest, careful to avoid the sticks and feathers. The uncontrollable shaking in my arm does me no favors, but I still manage to slip the egg out undetected. I set it on the damp grass and scrunch my eyes closed, taking several measured breaths before focusing once more.

Pushing back, I pause in a crouch and bring the artifact to my heaving chest. Fuck me, I’ve nowhere to store it. I’ll need to switch hands often if I’m to avoid losing one to the incessant cold. My eyes flick up briefly before I flex my legs to stand.

There is one other moment in my life I can recall my vision contradicting what my mind desperately wishes to be true.

Nine years ago, Marek decided I was ready to complete an assignment without his nosey self peering over my shoulder. Under one condition: Isaiah must join me.

His mistake was overestimating my capabilities.

My mistake was agreeing.

Is and I found our target—some foolish man accused of stealing coin from his boss. The owner of the shop commissioned the guild to punish the man for a crime we did not have evidence of.

As is the case with many of our assignments.

Some may call me an abominable murderer, and I’d agree. They spit obscenities about me in the perceived safety of their homesand shops, as if I should fucking care about ensuring rightful punishment at all times.

But when the assignment fought back, I was unprepared. None of the previous targets had quarreled, though Marek had the reputation I dreamed of at that moment. Of course he retaliated—he found it amusing that the guild had sent twochildrenfor the job. So when he swung his blade at Isaiah, I froze. There was ample time for me to block the strike, but I failed.

My best friend screamed as he was sliced open, the horrid sound allowing me to move. It was a mere moment before the man had a blade in his heart. My eyes flicked to Isaiah, who lay motionless on the ground.

I may not have wielded the blade that struck my best friend, but I did not intercept it. There was no difference.

My vision claimed he was dead. My mind could not grasp the truth of such a thought—the same issue I am currently experiencing.

I stare wide-eyed at the ground as my breathing shallows. I must be imagining things…I’ve been in the cold far too long to be thinking clearly. That is surely all this is, and I am panicking over nothing.

My gaze inches up slowly, sliding over thick fur, a dark, aggressively curved beak, and finally meeting bright, scalding blue eyes.

“Oh fuck.”

The griffin cants her head at my trembling voice. We watch each other for several moments while I silently threaten the Angel. I whimper when she leans into me, brushing the firm, smooth surface of her beak over my temple.

If I reach for my blade and kill her, the king would execute me for harming a griffin. But if I don’t, I'll likely be her next meal.

Her hot breath fans across my face, and I instinctively lean away, struggling to swallow when she reacts with a low clicking deep in her throat. She pulls her head back, studying me curiously before her pupils dilate as she discerns what I am holding.

The hardening of her eyes dissolves any opportunity I had to live through this encounter.

My feet finally unlatch themselves from the ground when the griffin growls loudly, the chilling sound shifting to a screech. It could be sweat or blood running down my neck, though I’ve no desire to know which. I spin and sprint in the direction that will take me back to the castle, forcing my body to nearly glide over the packed snow. Wings shuffle behind me as another screech grates my ears.

She’s pissed and preparing to hunt. And this time, I’m the target.

“Shit!” My heels crunch as I dig them into the snow, attempting to avoid slamming into the creature that landed before me.

She spreads her wings to their full length, swinging them in my direction aggressively. I stumble back, my foot catching onsomething and forcing me to my ass. My breathing is erratic while my stomach flips in all directions. I frantically scan for an opening, but she’s too fast. Her claws swipe at my torso, catching the fabric above my knee when I hug the egg to my chest and crawl back on one hand.

I need to stand. I am too vulnerable like this.

Her eyes somehow become more crazed before her abnormally large body rears back. I roll in time to avoid being flattened, only to blind myself with small bits of ice. I turn my head to find her blurry form descending on me.

Holding up a hand, I scream, “Wait!” My eyes scrunch as I pitifully attempt to shield myself. It is several moments before I comprehend there was no impact and my stuttering breaths mixed with the piercing wind are the only things I hear. I peek to the side where the griffin stands with her gaze locked on me.

I slowly push to my feet, not looking away from her. “Listen…this is not your egg.” I hold up the artifact, gesturing to it as if she can understand me. “I am not stealing from you. I need this, okay?”

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