Page 15 of Shadebound
One that told them I was not their friend, or a regular monster. I was someone they had to fear.
Someone uncontrollably evil, destined to go insane. Destined to bring ruin to them all.
I liked the idea of being evil. But not without choice. Hightower worded herself as though I had no choice.
“Team leaders, choose among yourselves who takes them,” she announced. “Let’s see who has the courage to fight beside a true monster. Or perhaps, like all her kind before her, she ruins you all.”
She vanished from the platform in a flutter of wings. The floating glass tiles beneath her dissolved into sparks as I exhaled, trying not to let my annoyance show. My muscles still coiled tight beneath my skin as I glanced around the rest of the pit and shrugged off my coat for ease.
The stones were hidden, my rose stem was sharp. I was confident enough that nobody would steal my precious things from me.
And even more confident that I would pluck out their eyeballs if they did.
From the crowd of potentially unwilling participants opposite, a tall boy stepped forward, dragging a spiked sword over his shoulder like it weighed nothing. His skin was warm brown, inky hair long and braided, mouth curled into a sneer.
He was beautiful in the way poison was. And I had no urge to be poisoned right now.
He glared at me, dropping his sword carelessly as he raised his hands. I braced for an attack, readying my shadows to cover my brother. But he just signed right at us.
I don’t fight beside Draconis filth. He spat on the ground and then laughed, sneering loudly. “The dogs can have them. My team doesn’t need a dead girl to win!”
The crowd roared as Draven stepped back, reeling from the pure hatred on a stranger’s face.
I didn’t. I memorised his face instead, wondering how he knew my family and why I didn’t know him. He was tall. Dark. Arrogant. Shifter, based on his size and the magic my shadows could feel pulsating from his skin. Fire, maybe? The neon blue of his eyes was too strange, too cold. Perhaps not an elemental, but something worse.
Something I would crush later. Forfun.
Another student stepped forward—lean and tanned, shirtless, the planes of his toned muscles defined under smoothskin. He brushed a strand of purple-streaked black hair back before offering a confident nod, his silver eyes practically glowing under the arena lights.
Hisbeauty was no poison, but like starlight.
The only type of light I ever enjoyed, even if every touch burned me alive.
He grinned, and I instantly relaxed as my breath caught for far worse reasons than fear. “I’ll take ’em.”
“Zayden.” I whispered as he strode across the pit towards us.
The name tasted like home. But almost as soon as it left my lips, a cold weight settled in my chest—memories of our last encounter eight months ago, before he vanished in the dead of night, had me more nervous than I’d like to admit.
He’d been the sole cause of my dread at attending Mors—and yet now, absurdly, he was the only reason a dark little thrill of relief at finally being here tingled down my spine.
I hadn’t seen my best friend for too long. Not since he’d told me he loved me, then vanished and taken the last shred of my heart with him, barely four months after my sister’s death. But it didn’t matter right now—the scrape of his boots on the sand and the faint scent of pine and smoke told me it was really him. He hadn’t changed. Still walked like chaos incarnate with his ripped black combats and lack of a shirt. His werewolf shifting occurred too frequently to bother with proper clothes. And as he hurried to my side, I greedily devoured every inch of his tall form.
He still looked like he lived off adrenaline and spite. That was exactly how he’d been the day he showed up at summer camp when we were four. No one would come near me back then. Even though they’d all flocked to Bells. My sister’s charm hadn’t been enough. Yet at the first mealtime, Zayden had sat down next to me with a busted lip and a black eye. He’d offered me half his snack, muttered about how dragon shifters stunk,that fated mates were gross and he didn’t want one, and then he’d never left my side after that.
When he reached me now, he didn’t wait—just pulled me into a hug like it hadn’t been an age since he’d been taken from me too. My chest dipped with a tremor of relief, and I held on tighter, as if afraid he might vanish again. Even though I braced for the contact, stomach tightening, I didn’t pull away.
It wasZayden. It was fine to be touched by him. Beside him, everything bright was a little less threatening.
He would never truly hurt me, like others would. He would never fear my magic, touch, or soul.
“Heya, Heartache,” he muttered into my ear, too quiet for anyone else to hear. “As fun as it is to see you, don’t use your pretty magic in here. They’re watching, and they want to see what you can really do. Some of the crowd love to buy powerful students for their... theirentertainment, shall we say. And Hightower loves to prove a point with the strong ones.”
I blinked at him. My shadows paused. Despite how our last encounter had gone, I trusted him. Purely from years of fondness and memories. But I was also wary of ever allowing my magic to lay dormant. Especially in what seemed like a fight gearing up. And in a place that was so clearly designed to tame me.
He turned to Draven and signed,Stay close to your sister, okay, dude?
Draven nodded once. Just as glad as I was to see a familiar, friendly face. Even if it was for different reasons than I.
