Page 18 of A Kingdom of Shadows

Insects hum in the air, and the rustling of animals between shrubs reaches my ears as I stare at Darius walking a safe distance ahead of me.

Quiet.

It is so quiet with him.

When we are arguing, we are too busy to focus on anything else; when we are not, the world is too much to bear. And perhaps he is right about love. Eventually, it is all supposed to hurt one way or another; in death, heartbreak, lies, or deception.

That doesn’t mean I enjoy the concept though.

"Miss Nara?" Tibith's voice breaks through my thoughts, and I glance down at him. "Can I ask you something?"

I think I nod as a reply because he goes ahead and says, "Why—why do you wear that?" He points to my hand where the black fingerless glove rests.

Leather tightens against my skin as I curl my fingers into my palm, staring at it under the shadowy moonlight. "To cover my scar," I answer.

"But I like your scar, Miss Nara." He sounds sincere. It makes me smile. "And so does Darry."

"Really, now?" My brow tugs up in vague interest.

He hums as he nods. "He says its shape is like a river of dreams."

A river of dreams. Huh, I've never looked at it that way. All it's ever been is a reminder of when my father died and who caused this scar in the first place. It's a river of nightmares in my eyes.

I cut a glance toward Darius. He keeps a steady hand on the hilt of his blade as he observes every part of the forest. Once this is all over, I wonder if he will finally lay to rest.

"Tibith," I say, sliding my focus back to him. "Since you asked me a question, can I ask you one?"

"Of course, Miss Nara, I love questions!" His bright orange ears flap like a bee's wing, and a smile stretches my lips.

"Is there... a reason why Darius refuses to sleep on beds?"

Tibith takes little time to think it over. "That's easy! He is not used to them, Miss Nara."

"Not used to them?"

"The man who looked after him never let him sleep on any," Tibith says, but a hole grows in my chest. He must mean Lorcan's father, Rayth. He's the only one who looked after him when Darius's mother died. "Darry doesn't like talking about it. He tells me nice stories instead. Ones of giant bread houses all for me to eat!"

It's hard not to smile when Tibith radiates with virtuous excitement. But as my gaze flickers from Tibith to Darius again, the corner of my lips weighs down at the possibility that there may have been a reason for Darius killing Lorcan's father after all.

I excuse myself and separate from Tibth, stalking toward Darius in hopes of talking to him or questioning him perhaps. Whatever it takes, even if it ends in an argument.

But he halts just as I reach up behind him.

"Why did we stop?" I find myself asking instead. Surrounding us are large trees almost blackened by night, and detritus fill our pathway.

He looks over his shoulder at me and then points toward the ground. "See that pile of leaves?"

Indeed, I see it once my eyes travel to them. A large circular pile of greens, oranges, and ochre leaves covers the dusted ground.

"It's too neat to have just landed there," he says, frowning.

He's right.

I recognize tricks as such. As a trapper, I'd used that to hide nets.

Scanning the trees for any hidden rope, I say, "Trap?"

Darius keeps his eyes narrowed on the leaves. "I don't think it's just animals in this forest."

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