Page 7 of Veil of Death and Shadow

This one though, I could leave behind with the crow—a final offering of sorts.

With a hesitant finger, I pet the smooth feathers along the crow’s neck, marveling at the range of colors reflected against them—black, teal, and blue, like an oil slick. “Rest easy, little gu?—”

There was a loud, resounding crack that reverberated through my skull as if it had originated there.

The world went sharp and then hazy, until my vision blurred away altogether.

What felt like a hook curled beneath my ribs, ripping and pulling something from me as a scream pierced the woods.

The sharp, broken sound echoed around me, until I realized it was coming from my throat.

All air rushed from my lungs, and I was jerked up and away from where I’d been seated, the fresh pricks of twigs and thorns scraping against my arms and cheeks wherever I landed.

Pain lacerated through me as I choked on something thick and liquid, tasting of metal.

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t move.

Couldn’t even see a goddamn thing.

Panicking, I mentally thrashed at whatever strange power held me in its grasp.

In the emptiness, my mind conjured up images of a man with ink-black hair that curled over amber eyes. It had been eleven years since I’d last seen him in person, but his features were tattooed behind my eyelids with crystal clarity, an ever-enduring promise that we’d meet again.

Death.

He was here.

It was finally time.

Liquid fire coursed through my veins as I suffocated on my own blood. I fought desperately against him, spitting and cursing at the cruel fate that had already stolen so much from me.

It was a futile fight; the strain did nothing but drain me faster.

I didn’t care. I fought harder.

Death was relentless, but so was I.

Rage boiled and gurgled in my blood, as I fought inside a body that disobeyed every order I gave it—until, all at once, everything went silent.

2

MAREENA

Six Years Ago (The Aftermath of The Undoing)

Something hard, dry, and small rained down on my face.

With a grunt, I opened my eyes, blinking as I slowly adjusted to the light.

I shifted slightly and winced.

A thin, angry red line appeared on the back of my hand. I pulled the small thorn from where it was embedded in my skin, then flinched when a twig bounced off my forehead.

“What the hell?” I shifted again, trying to better position myself.

I was sitting in a bush, it seemed, only I couldn’t exactly recall how I’d gotten here.

I was vaguely aware of a small thud, before an ache bloomed on top of my head.

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