Page 92 of Shadebound
I stared at the wall behind him, blinking fast as the shapes started to smear, the hard edges bleeding into shadow.
You think it’s going to keep going, I signed,until they kill thirteen like they did last time.
His jaw got tighter as he nodded.
The chill that moved through me wasn’t from the stone floor, or the cold that clung to everything down here—it came from deeper, darker places. From somewhere I didn’t have a name for. Somewhere I wasn’t sure I wanted to find.
I swallowed hard.Why are you telling me now?
I thought you wouldn’t be able to handle it. But I was wrong,he ran a hand over his face.You’ve already lost too much. The least I can do is make sure you’re prepared.
My throat burned. My heart thundered louder, and I had no idea how I managed to lift my hands to explain that I knew.
I knew the killer was here. That Eris had told me. That... that they had left me notes. Invited me to play a game.
All I knew was that I spilt all of it to Zayden, and he listened intently. He didn’t yell at me for keeping secrets, nor did he complain when I said I didn’t want his help figuring out who the killer was. He just listened. Nodded. Told me I could come to him at anytime, for anything.
I had been foolish. Not with the killer. My life. Or anything other than withhim.
So I stayed awake, counting the hours like they owed me something—like if I tallied enough of them, I could make time behave, bend it backward, stop it from dragging its bloody heels toward whatever was coming next.
And the entire time, as I lay next to a man who somehow always did the right thing, I wondered how I could live withmyself. Not because I had done something wrong, or immoral, or damaging.
But because I was in love with him. And love was a hideous, treacherous thing. Yet, for some reason, I planned to tell him anyway.
Even if the thought of saying the words out loud made me want to die far more than I already did.
Field Journal — Entry #1581 - Classified
My mind doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to them.
To the shadows and the darkness.
To the monster I know I am.
Chapter Twenty Eight, Warning
By the time I looked up in the morning, my combat lesson was already halfway through. My sword arm ached from swinging, not from effort but from doing the bare minimum. The arena dummies were lined up in the sand, most hacked apart by sharper, more eager hands than mine. Mine still stood mostly untouched, only shallow cuts marring the leather.
Professor Rayla’s whistle cut sharp across the arena. “Pair off. We’re doing sparring rounds.”
Groans rippled through the group. I dragged myself into the line with the others, shoulders heavy, eyelids heavier.
By the time I noticed what was going on, I blinked and Kalamity was already standing in front of me, offering that small, easy smile of his. “I’ll be gentle.”
He was steady on his feet, practiced. The way he moved, the way he held his dark fists, it was obvious he’d trained for this. Not that I cared. I braced half-heartedly, ready for him to gloator condescend, but when he corrected the way I held my hand, his tone wasn’t sharp.
“Keep your fist tighter,” he said. “Otherwise you’ll hurt yourself more than you hurt me.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, ready with something biting, but he wasn’t mocking. He was genuinely trying to help. He seemed… nice. Too nice for this place. I bit back the comment on my tongue and just nodded. “Thanks.”
Next up was Draven. He didn’t move to fight me, even though he could. Just circled, hands half-raised, refusing to touch me.
You can hit me. I signed quickly, my movements sluggish.
He shook his head and signed back,Don’t be ridiculous.
I wanted to argue, wanted to snap at him to do it properly, to not get himself in trouble, but the fight drained out of me before I could start. My brain was too fogged, my body too heavy. I let him keep his silence.
