Page 87 of Slaying the Shadow Prince
And it was her brightness that tugged something deep inside him. A wave of dread washed over him. He dropped his wine and lurched for the exit.
Talemir burst from the warehouse to find the sky moonless.
Gods – he hadn’t realised. He’d been too wrapped up in everything.
It was the darkest night of the month.
The shadows within him writhed once more, screaming to be released.
Spotting a set of stairs on the side of the building, Talemir lunged for them, his heart hammering painfully as he hauled himself up to the rooftop, out of sight. When he reached the top, he doubled over, agony lancing through his back and fingertips.
He gasped, eyes watering, only to look up and find that Drue had followed. She stood there, staring at him, her eyes wide.
All this time, he’d been trying to convince her – convincehimself– that he wasn’t this creature, this monster.
But he was.
When the curse called, he answered.
And he hated himself for it.
He gasped for air, unable to look away from her, unable to hide his shame, his shadow-self.
‘I’m sorry,’ he breathed, right as the darkness claimed him.
21
Drue
Drue yielded a step, her hand covering her mouth as she watched Talemir transform in the torchlight’s glow. She had seen the change in glimpses before, but nothing like this, nothing like the uncontrollable shift that occurred right before her eyes. Talemir’s eyes darkened, becoming almost black, like the veins fracturing around his temples. His handsome face twisted in pain as those giant, membranous wings speared from his muscular back, tearing through his shirt, leaving it in tatters hanging from his heaving frame.
Sharp talons unsheathed from his fingertips, shadows dancing at their points, wisps of power unfurling from the Warsword —
Beneath the starless night, Drue didn’t take her eyes off him. She was rooted to the spot as hero became monster, his wings opening between his shoulder blades, spanning an impressive distance either side of him, ribbons of obsidian coiling around him, and reaching for her…
The curse pouring from Talemir compounded. It fought to cloak him in its darkness completely, a swirling mass that warred against him, seeking acceptance, seeking freedom. It sang to her too, though no nightmares, no visions of the past came.
Drue could see his talons cutting into his palms as he resisted the power’s embrace, the tendons bulging in his neck at the sheer force of will.
And still she didn’t move.
For what she saw in those eyes was not Warsword, not wraith, but intimately human… It wasfear. Bright, unadulterated terror as Talemir battled with his inner nature.
The man was still there.
The man she’d come to know, the man she…
As though recognising something in her gaze, Talemir’s form flickered, but in the dark of the new moon, he couldn’t control it, no matter how hard he seemed to fight.
A pained groan escaped him, perspiration beading at his brow while the shadows punished him, while the darkness demanded payment.
Drue’s heart ached for him, understanding that it wasn’t just the physical agony of the shift that tortured the Warsword, but something far deeper, far darker: the hatred of himself and what he now was.
It was that realisation that had Drue reaching for him, closing the gap between them, her hand wrapping gently around his black-veined forearm, his skin cold to the touch.
But at that contact, his form flickered again between warrior and wraith.
‘Drue…’ he murmured, fighting for breath, staring at her as though seeing her for the first time.
