Page 1 of Vow of the Shadow King

1

FARAINE

Fingertips brush the curve of my neck and shoulder.

I gasp a short breath, hold it. Let it out in a sigh only to catch it again when that touch, hot as fire, moves to my throat, trails along my collarbone. Warm breath tickles the sensitive skin just behind my ear. Then the edge of teeth, applying only the faintest pressure to my earlobe. Just enough that I feel their sharpness.

Let me teach you,a deep voice rumbles in the shadows.Let me learn you.

I fall back in a bed of darkness. It envelops me in a sweet, heady perfume. I can see nothing, for all is inky black, so I close my eyes, let my other senses come alive.

He is there.

His body pressed flush against mine.

His fingers twirl the delicate straps on my shoulders.

His hands smooth away the silky folds of my gown.

My throat vibrates with a low moan. I respond to his touch, surrender to his lead as he draws me into this sensuous dance. His lips are full and soft but spark against my skin as his kisses explore down my neck, my collarbone, between my breasts. I run my hands across his broad shoulders, up the back of his head, my fingers tangling in the long, silky strands of his hair.

Is this what you want?

Ilsevel?

My eyes fly open. Low red light illuminates the darkness just enough that I can see the face hovering above mine. Those strong features sharpened to knife-like edges, his eyes black voids, brimming with fury, with hatred.

He bares his teeth. They’re sharp like fangs.

Then I’m falling. Falling, tumbling, hot air rushing past me. The heat below intensifies, burns away the scant remains of my garments, burns into my flesh, my bones.

I scream—

—and land flat on my back.

Every muscle in my body is tensed, my lungs constricted. For a moment I believe I’ve struck stone, shattered into a million tiny pieces. Then my heart gives a painful throb. Life rushes through me, quaking my bones. I draw in a ragged breath. It takes a moment to realize my eyelids are blinking fast, because there’s simply no difference between open and closed. All is absolutely black. Did I strike my head when I fell? Am I now blind?

But no. I didn’t fall. Not really.

Neither has the flesh melted from my skeleton.

It was just a dream.

A sob chokes in my throat. Rolling onto my side, I grip the edge of the narrow cot on which I lie. My addled mind slowly begins to clear. I know where I am again: in a cave. Dank. Cold. Dark. Far beneath the surface of this world. Imprisoned for treachery against the Shadow King.

A shudder rolls down my spine. This darkness is terrible. It feels like a living thing, an oppressive entity preying on my sanity. My senses are already so highly strung due to my gods-gift. Now, deprived of sight, I have no barrier between me and the tiniest, creeping sensations.

If only I could retreat back into that dream! Because itwasa dream . . . wasn’t it? Part of me wants to believe it was a memory. Those touches. Those kisses. Those thrills of both body and soul. They were mine. For a few, precious moments, they were mine.

Only that’s a lie.

Those kisses were all meant for Ilsevel.

My sister.

Beloved.

Dead.

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