Page 42 of Shannon in Sombra

“I wasn’t on my own. Loki was with me… for some of it, at least. Besides, none of that matters. The duke was testing me?—”

Billie snorts, a sound that reminds me of the Earth pig. “He likes to do that. Prick.”

My mate agrees with the assessment that Duke Haures acts like a cock sometimes.

“No argument here,” she tells the other women, “but what about the flower? Did you find one? What does it do?”

Hope purses her lips. “Oh, I found it. Loki had to wait outside the shadows, and the duke told me to stick to the edges, but if you follow your nose… you can find the flower.”

“Follow your nose? What the hell does that mean?”

“I didn’t get it myself at first. But the flower… it calls to you. Like, for me, I smelled the chocolate chip cookies my mom made every Christmas. I followed it and that’s where I found the flower.”

I know the delectable scent of a chocolate chip cookie. My Shannon favors them, and though I turned them to ash the first time I attempted to bake them for her in our apartment, I’m proud that I had mastered making them for her while she carried our spawn.

I breathe in deep. “I do not smell any cookies,” I say, regret heavy in my tone.

“Me, neither,” echoes Sierra.

“Nope,” adds Kennedy. “Just the same old mutated rotten eggs stink I remember from this place. No cookies, and believe me… I could go for one about now.”

“The ashbalm flower called to Hope so she smelled her mother’s treats,” says Lucian. “But while she can help you find the flower, the one we seek now is not meant for Sammael’s mate. It’s meant for yours, Malphas.”

“Me?” chirps Shannon. “Why do I need to find this flower? What is it supposed to do anyway?”

“Uh…”

“Hope? What am I missing?”

The dark-haired human worries her bottom lip with her tiny teeth. “The duke said it was necessary to break a mate bond.”

My heart leaps up into my throat.

Shannon’s fingers dig into my flesh. “I’m not giving up Mal. He’s mine.”

I’m desperate to rescue Alana. It never occurred to me that I could truly lose my mate as well, and while my worry is barely tempered by her claim, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t touch me deep inside that my mate… my love… my flower stilldoesclaim me.

Just like she did during our first gold moon together, when Glaine and Sammael were sent to put me in enchanted chains and bring me back to Sombra, Shannon announces to everyone gathered that I am her mate.

In the light, I am hers. In the shadows, I am hers.

I strive to be a good male. An honorable male. I like to think that I am, but there isn’t anything I won’t do to keep her. Same for putting Alana back where she belongs: in her mother’s arms?—

“It’s not for the mate bond you share with the artist,” murmurs Damien. “It’s for the spawn. The shadows stole her for one reason. To get her back, we must be prepared to break it. You are her mother. She can’t retrieve the ashbalm flower. You can.”

“Wait.” Shannon releases me, and though I miss her touch as she moves away to confront Damien, I let her go. “Someone took my baby. Are you telling me they took her because… no. Break a bond? No way. She’s not gonna be mated tothatkind of monster. She’s ababy.”

Oh, my clever, clever mate. She understood what I’m only just getting now myself. Of course that would explain why someone took Alana from her crib. No one in Sombra will steal a child, but if they believe that child is their one true mate? To guard them, to keep them safe, to watch over them until they’re mature enough to accept the mate bond… that has been done in our history.

But not my daughter. Not my Alana.

“There is a bond,” begins Lucian.

“Well, there won’t be when I’m fucking done. Okay. I’ve gotta find this flower?” Shannon sniffs the air. Her eyes go wide. “Hang on. Either I’m losing it or I just got a whiff of coffee.”

My Shannon loves coffee. In Sombra, I’ve introduced her to javits, and she enjoys the buzz she gets from our brewed drink, but she does admit it’s not quite the same. So if she’s scenting the strong, bitter aroma of human coffee—and the doppelseer is right—it could only be a sign that the ashbalm flower is near.

“Where, my mate?” I ask.

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