Page 13 of Shannon in Sombra

She sounds so uncertain. It’s a tremor down our bond, and I want nothing more than to tell her that all will be well.

But it is raining, and Alana still cries.

“I must check with Apollyon,” is what I say instead.

The clan leader will know what to do. He can have Loki use his magic to send a message to Duke Haures if he doesn’t already know. The rain… is this it? The prophecy unfolding?

The gods help us all if it is.

I loop my arm around Shannon, my shadows surrounding my mate and my child for a moment before I drop a kiss to her hair. Then, releasing her while staying in my mist, I zip through one of the holes built into the ceiling. Through the first floor, then the second, I go until I land in the middle of the village square, my shadowy feet managing to sink into the damp ash.

The ash in Sombra has never been so wet before.

The volcanic surface of our world reacts to the rain. It spits and sizzles, the same way it did when it touched my skin, while the air blooms with a foul stink.

It’s empty. The village square, that is. Though, as a mere clan artist, my house has always been more basic than those belonging to the clan leader, the hunters, the farmers, and the weavers, I built it from the ash up with my future mate in mind. It’s humble, yet sturdy, and it has the best view of all of Nuit.

From our porch, we can see the expanse of the entire village before the boundaries fade to shadows. It’s another reason why I loved the idea of adding the window. That way we can see the village from the comfort of our home.

Nuit is one of the smaller villages in Sombra, but we are a close clan because of it. We trade and we help each other; though I had expected their wariness when it came to Alana’s differences, it hurt me all the same because the demons in our village were the only kin I had after my mother and father moved on themselves centuries ago.

It is always busy, even when the moons rise and the shadows darken. The ash farmers tending to their crops. The hunters going out for nocturnal prey. Bonded mates enjoying the lava pools like my Shannon and I did… but not this eve.

I see no one. I hear no one. Though lights flicker through some of the smaller windows I spy through the rain, all of the villagers are hunkered down in their homes.

No one else is here to watch the rain fall. Do they even know the skies have opened up? That the prophecy might be unfolding before my very eyes?

Do they?—

Behind me, I hear a door open. Glancing over my shoulder, I turn in time to notice that it’s from my house. With a hint of defiance, my mate steps out onto the porch.

“Woof,” Shannon says, cradling Alana to her chest with one hand. With the other, she shoves her fingers under her nose. “It usually stinks like rotten eggs out here, and I thought I got used to it, but add the rain to it and… shit, that’s nasty.”

“Shannon, my flower. I thought you were going to stay inside.”

She snorts. I’d like to think it’s because of the stench, but I know my mate better than that.

Especially when she says, “Don’t know why you’d think that, big guy. Just because I can’t gopoofand fly outside, my fingers work just fine when it comes to opening the door.” Shannon moves toward the edge of the porch. “Legs work, too.”

“I wanted you to stay inside where it’s safe,” I try to tell her. “This rain isn’t like Earth rain.”

Still clutching Alana tightly, my mate ignores me as she holds out her free hand, testing the rain.

My heart jumps into my throat. “Shannon?—”

“I don’t get the big deal. It’s warm, but it’s not acid rain, Mal. Besides, I’m not the Wicked Witch of the West. I won’t melt.”

I gasp. “Is that even possible?”

“In Oz, maybe.”

Oz? That’s a relief. I thought that she meant Earth, and though I lived with her for years in her human realm, I never once worried that my mate would disintegrate if she got caught out in the rain.

Still… “I don’t want it to cause you any pain.”

Even standing here in my shadows, it is an annoyance every time one of the droplets hits me.

Shannon scoffs. “It’s rain. I’ll be…” Her expression twists back into one of unease. “Wait— does it hurtyou?” I don’t even get the chance to answer before she scrabbles backward, hurrying so that she’s standing under the ash-awning on the porch. Normally, it protects anyone near the house, but for the first time in my existence, it blocks out the falling rain. “Alana is half-demon. What if it hurtsher?”

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