The Shadow Prince’s Ruin (Dark Companions #2)

Chapter 2

Sylvan

I hate the human realm.

I hate daylight for giving me sunburn. I hate seeming incompetent at every step, just because this world is new to me. I hate having to tuck my pointy ears under a cap. I hate the scratchy fabric of my uniform at Best Burgers Bonanza. I hate that the silver collar around my neck blocks my access to shadowcraft (as meager as my skill is). I hate that I am an elven prince, Sylvan fucking Goldweed, and instead of getting the respect I deserve as a royal, I’m stuck flipping burgers for a pittance.

Am I really supposed to live like this for fifty years? Two months into my banishment and I’m already on the verge of killing someone when asked for extra ketchup.

I don’t know what’s worse: that after a few years in the human realm my body will begin to deteriorate, ‘grow old’ as if I were some soulless beast or animal, not an elf. Or that, while I am stuck here, being of no use or significance to anyone, life at the Nocturne Court carries on. Soon enough, my connection with it will wither, and even my own mother will forget me. All the progress I have made in alchemy will be in vain after fifty years of new developments in the craft.

I will never prove myself.

I will amount to nothing.

I will forever be the most useless Goldweed prince who ever lived.

“Hey, man! Is the ice cream coming or what?” yells a teenager with the complexion of scorched earth.

If I stay here long enough, will my smooth skin also erupt with spots?

“Apologies, the machine is broken,” I lie, because I will not be cleaning it again . It’s almost ten at night, and from then, the restaurant will only be open for drive-thru customers. I can’t wait for the bunch of rowdy adolescents occupying the booth at the back of BBB to disappear from my sight.

I would have told them to get out in more blunt terms, or even not accepted their order ten minutes before closing time, but I’ve been reprimanded for my attitude issues several times already. I can’t lose this job with no other plan for survival. Because how else am I to earn my keep in a world so strange and unfamiliar? Lord Kyran did me a favor by securing a meager room and work for me, and if I’m ever to earn his forgiveness and have him end my banishment prematurely, I cannot openly scorn his gifts.

Resigned to my fate, I take hold of a broom and approach the booth, since I’ve been told cleaning up is a universal and polite way to send patrons home. I’ve only been here two months, but all the manual labor has already made my hands rougher, and exhaustion sends me to sleep as soon as I lie down, but I am safe, and as long as I keep my head down—

“But just look at that short king,” a raspy voice says, and one of the teens in the booth flashes me a smile. He’s wearing a loose pink T-shirt and clothes that are flashier than those of the other males at the table. A rubber bracelet featuring various shades of blue and green jitters on his wrist as he waves at me. “He just appeared out of nowhere this spring,” he adds, never taking his eyes off me.

“You should ask him out,” a young girl says, slurping her milkshake and poking the guy with her elbow.

I throw daggers at them with my glare. For some humans, my looks have been a huge point of interest, but entertaining that is the last thing on my mind. The flashy guy shifts to the edge of the booth, while all his friends watch on, munching on the last of their fries.

“Will you be going to Black Tree High once the school year starts? Or are you homeschooled or something?” he asks as the girl snorts so hard milkshake comes out of her nose.

They are all repulsive . I couldn’t care less about their appearance since they’re overgrown children, but everything about their attitude, demeanor, their lack of manners, and basic respect for others is so agitating to me that if I had access to shadowcraft, I would have—

What? My talent for wielding shadow is so painfully underdeveloped I couldn’t dream of using it to teach all of them a lesson even if I didn’t have a power-blocking collar around my neck. Then again, I could grow sharp claws out of shadow, and if I made sure to slice through an artery…

I straighten up, trying to seem taller, which is pretty futile and we all know it. No wonder they are mistaking me for their peer, because at five-foot-two, I’m hardly an imposing figure.

“Is there a reason for this questioning?” I ask, then make a point of taking a long glance at the burger-shaped clock on the wall.

One of the boys rolls his eyes at his friend and pushes a cold fry into his mouth. “Jeez, aren’t there other guys willing to suck your dick on that—”

“Grindr,” the Milkshake Girl says and sucks on her damp paper straw again.

“Yeah, that.”

I don’t know what ‘Grindr’ is, but I am most definitely not about to suck anyone’s dick. Especially not some rude, childish fuck’s. Still, I sense my cheeks warm, and my pale complexion surely reveals that I’m blushing. The flush is an absolute abomination on my face, and doesn’t accurately communicate my feelings on the matter at all .

The guy in pink groans. “But he’s so cuuuute.”

“I would strongly disagree,” I say through gritted teeth, clenching the broom harder. “You do not know me, and you have no idea what I am capable of. A child picking roses in the moonlight is ‘cute’. A bunch of newborn bats feasting on coralberries are ‘cute’. A moth desperately hitting a window to get to light is ‘cute’. I resent the very notion of being anything like those pathetic critters.”

They stare at me, then all erupt with laughter at the same moment. Mockery hits me like sour rain, and as fury boils under my skin, I consider whether the broom in my hands could do some damage. If I tried really hard, I could make at least one of those children bleed for disrespecting me.

But before I can make my move (and lose my job for it), Kurt, my co-worker, steps close and puts his hand on my shoulder. “You flirting with underage boys again?” he asks, winking at me.

I want to yell about how incorrectly he’s interpreted this pathetic situation, but one of the girls speaks first.

“Oh, how old are you?” she asks, as if that meant anything.

“I am twenty-five, if you must know.”

Pink Boy makes a face as if I’ve declared I eat roaches. “You’re old ? Like… what? You really got a baby face, man. I need some skincare tips asap.”

I raise my chin. At least when he’s sitting and I’m standing, I can look at him from above. “It might be too late for that in your case.”

Kurt spins me around and gives me a gentle shove toward the registers. “Carla asked for some help in the kitchen before she leaves. I’ll close the doors.”

Kurt is an acceptable specimen. For a human. While younger than me, I do have to begrudgingly admit that despite his lazy disposition and a tendency to wear his hat backwards, he knows the workings of Best Burgers Bonanza like the back of his hand.

The teens are debating my supposed rudeness in low voices. Well, they deserved everything they got. Just last week, the same damn group was asking me whether I was an ‘albino’ because of the fairness of my hair. Yet another concept I wasn’t aware of since it doesn’t exist in the Nightmare Realm. They must have spent at least half an hour debating whether an albino can have dark blue eyes like mine. It’s maddening. And as much as I appreciate Kurt coming to my aid, seeing them finally get up after they ignored me for half an hour feels like yet another insult.

I swear, one day I will lose my patience and blood will be spilled on the mint green tiles of Best Burgers Bonanza.

Carla, the manager’s assistant, waves at me in passing, already out of her work uniform. “Remember to check every door and window, and don’t forget to switch on the alarm,” she says, as if she believes me feeble-minded.

“There, all done,” Kurt informs me, pulling off his polo shirt on the way to the lockers. “If you forget how something works, just call me. I won’t go to sleep until you close the shop.”

I wish I could dismiss him, say I never forget anything, and that I don’t need help, but in my first week here, I spilled the frying oil, set off the alarm twice, and accidentally defrosted a whole batch of burgers too soon. I’ve been humbled, and Kurt was always there to pick up the pieces. I may have cried myself to sleep after that first week. If there’s anything I hate more than my banishment, it’s being inept.

“Thank you, I appreciate it.”

He also got me a phone on which I can receive messages from our boss, and didn’t ask for any payment. I truly am lucky to have him as my guide, as infuriating as it is that I need one in the first place.

Soon enough, both my co-workers are gone, and I walk around, checking if everything is working as it should. I have a notebook with drawings and diagrams I can compare all the gauges and switches to, but I find it punishingly hard to remember all the settings, since I don’t understand their purpose.

Everything makes so much more sense in the Nightmare Realm. You want swamplight? Harvest mucus off the right type of frog or snail in the bog. The rules around it are simple too. The closer the harvest is to the full moon, the brighter the light will be. Then, all you need to do is put it in a lantern and set it on fire. You will get beautiful, stable green light that produces no heat, and is safe to be used even by children.

The array of multicolored plastic switches which I have to handle every day? A madman’s folly. I’ve been trying to learn about their inner workings. There is a spark, power travels down a cable, ending up in the painfully bright lamps above the tables, but how it manages to set them alight still eludes me. It won’t stop me, of course, from judging all electricity as crude, and aesthetically unappealing.

I could easily learn all about it if I had the time, but understanding the people around me and their culture takes precedence. To function in the human world efficiently I spend a lot of time plowing through their books and watching television in my spare time.

And I’ve been yelled at for removing one of the sockets off the wall to find out how cables work, so I won’t be doing that again any time soon.

Just as I open a book on the history of crime detection in the human world, a raspy voice croaks in the headphones I’m wearing. “Meat time,” a man says, and I sigh before heading for the drive-thru window.

“Good evening and welcome to Best Burgers Bonanza. Can I take your order, please?” I recite the formula I could repeat in my sleep.

“Ah! Hello! I’d like a Super Bonanza meal with coffee, a cheeseburger with extra pickles, a set of Cowboy Sliders with chicken, and a Marshmallow Sundae. Oh, and the cookie special.”

I tap everything into a machine as I’ve been taught, even though it would have been much more convenient to write it down on a piece of paper. I tried to convince my boss about that when I first arrived, even showing off my neat handwriting, but to no avail. Apparently, if I do it on the machine it logs it… somewhere, so their taxes are counted automatically. Why would they want to pay more taxes? I don’t know and didn’t ask.

“Anything else, sir? We do have a special offer which would allow you to get an extra portion of fries for just fifty cents with your sliders.”

The man laughs, and his rasp buzzes in my ears so intensely I find myself curling my toes. “You convinced me. Bring it!”

I do smile at his cheerfulness, even though I’m instantly embarrassed that talking someone into additional fries gives me any sense of achievement.

“It will all be ready in a few minutes, please approach the window to pay,” I say, because my manager has taught me payment comes first, as some people may take the food and run.

“Coming right up,” the customer tells me, and I’m about to walk off to throw the meat into the fryer when thudding footsteps resonate in the drive instead of the growl of a motor engine.

I pop my head out just in time to see a towering beast with long, thick arms. Since arriving in the human realm, I have faced men and women who far outgrow the average elf. They are stockier by nature, and distinctly hairier, but the giant standing before me in a black hoodie, joggers, and with a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes must have forgotten to stop growing.

When our eyes meet, his jaw goes slack as he cocks his head, staring at me as if I were made of gold.

I lick my lips, unsure what to do for a moment because he is a bit intimidating. I end up clearing my throat as I eye him.

“Sir, you must come in a vehicle to use the drive-thru. Otherwise, you are causing a risk to everyone on the road.”

This seems to wake him up from whatever realm his mind drifted off to, and he looks around the empty asphalt. “There is no everyone here. Just us,” he says and his mouth stretches into a smile. As he tips his chin higher, the glow coming from above catches dark stubble, an element of appearance in some human males, which I’ve become unwillingly preoccupied with. It makes them look somewhat… beastly.

I hesitate, once more glancing behind him, at the empty road. “If I bend the rules once, I will be obliged to do it again.”

The stranger licks his lips before stepping closer, about to reach inside through the window, but he stops himself in the last moment. “Nah, I’m a gentleman. There’s no obligation to do anything.”

He is most definitely no gentleman, but I don’t want to argue for the sake of the argument. He’s been friendly enough. “I will agree this one time, but I warn you that it cannot become a precedent.” I discreetly assess the width of his shoulders. He’s… massive. It gives me that tightness in the throat and moths in the stomach, like when I used to take sneaky glances at the royal guards, sometimes even taking my walks at a time when they were likely to bathe in the pond.

The stranger grins and winks at me. “Don’t you worry. I’m real good at keeping secrets. Maybe I could buy you a drink? Or a cookie?”

My neck gets hot under the silver collar. “I do not need to be bribed. I made my choice to serve you out of my own free will. Are you paying cash or card?” There's a tension between us I can’t fully pinpoint, but it’s making me nervous.

The man snorts, shakes his head and bites his lip as he looks at me with a half-smile. “Okay, I’ll just be frank. I can’t take my eyes off you, and I want to talk to you a bit more. Do you want that cookie?”

I stare at him, dumbstruck. “I am not female,” I say, because I’ve learned the hard way that some men approach me because my delicate features confuse them about my gender.

“I know.”

Heat rises up my neck. I wish I was more experienced in these things, but matters of the heart have never been my priority.

But also, what is he thinking? That I, Prince Sylvan Goldweed, will fall at his feet because of a handsome smile and thick arms? Unless… Dread pools in my heart.

“Did they pay you to come here and agitate me?” I ask harshly.

The man pulls up the visor of his cap just enough for the light to catch the green of his eyes. He has really long lashes, which make his masculine face even handsomer. “Who’s they ? I just came in for food and got hungry for more than that.”

That is blunt. Since getting banished to the human world, I’ve been busy establishing myself and finding my feet. The possibility of being intimate with someone hasn’t even occurred to me. I’m out of my depth and resort to what I know—shutting down a situation before it can overwhelm me. I despise not being in control, and this man is most definitely trying to pull the reins out of my hands.

“I’m afraid you can only buy food here. You must pay or leave.” I cringe on the inside at my own voice. Could I not have been nicer about it? More flirtatious? I bet I’ll be lying in bed tonight and coming up with hundreds of answers better than what I just said, but it is what it is.

The man deflates, but his smile doesn’t falter completely. “Sure. As I said, no obligations,” he adds and opens his wallet before placing paper bills and some change in front of me. As I take the money, he steps away from the window, triggering a motion-activated light that would have long ago switched on if he drove a car.

This time, it’s me who stares, because the stranger's handsome exterior and gravelly voice both pale in comparison to the beauty of the shadow he’s casting. Blacker than the depths of Grief Ocean, it radiates power I have never before seen concentrated in a single human’s darkness. It’s like a beast forced into a cage too small. Not only is it so potent it seems to pulse, but slim dark tendrils extend beyond its edges like abandoned children desperate to find a home. His shadow isn’t just more powerful than any I’ve seen. It’s feral and ripe for plucking, like he’s been bound to an elf before, but their bond was severed death.

“Wait!” I say, even though I know he will be awaiting his food anyway. I’m frantic and desperate to not lose sight of him. My heart pounds ever faster. “Are you… someone’s Dark Companion?”

He blinks but steps back to the window. “Ooh, is that some new slang I missed? I could definitely be your companion tonight. And we could do dark, dark things,” he says and winks at me.

He has no idea. Since I arrived among humans, I’ve not seen anyone whose shadow was accessible like his, practically begging for connection. I could bind his shadow to mine right now , and he’d be none the wiser. With such power as my crutch, I’d no longer be my family’s weakest link, the laughingstock of the Nocturne Court.

I reach out, expecting the shadow tendrils to accept the invitation and curl around my fingers, but they remain in place, as if I didn’t exist.

That’s right, the collar around my neck prevents me from using any shadowcraft.

I let out a helpless whine, which soon morphs into a sigh when the huge hand squeezes mine, encasing it in a warm, cozy cocoon.

“In case I wasn’t clear enough so far, I think you’re the prettiest twink I’ve seen in… forever.”

I’ve heard that word before, and while I’m not certain what it means, paired with ‘prettiest’ and the way he looks at me, I’m guessing he’s attempting to compliment me.

My fingers sizzle under his touch, and I breathe a little too fast as I glance from his eyes, to our fingers, to his shadow begging to be claimed. I don’t know how yet, but I will get the collar off and bind him to me.

My life would change completely if I had a Dark Companion like him. Banishment be damned, I’d claw my way back to the Nocturne Court somehow.

Only now I truly register what he meant and blush even more furiously. He thinks I’m pretty?

“I finish work in an hour. I’ll just get you your food, and… will you wait for me?” I ask, squeezing his hand, but at this point I’d be willing to break the rules and close early just to make sure he doesn’t wander off anywhere.

“Hell yes. I’d wait on this curb for a week for a pretty thing like you.” He lets out a raspy laugh and pulls out a little square wrapper from his wallet. There’s a ring-like shape inside, but I have no idea what that might be. “You have a place?”

He… doesn’t? Right. He doesn’t even seem to have a car. I have no idea who he is, but the packet looks a bit like the condiments we serve with takeout orders, so I’m guessing it’s food (?). I’m not used to spontaneous decisions, but if I let a shadow like that slip out of my grasp, I’ll never forgive myself.

But maybe this is a good thing that he wants to accompany me home? I’ll be able to keep an eye on him. Speaking of which… is that blood on his knuckles?

I swallow, wondering if I’m making the right choice, but I always overthink things, and this is simply not the time for that. I nod. “It can be arranged. A place where we can enjoy this ,” I point to the wrapper. “Together.” I smile, glad my ears are tucked under the cap, because they tend to twitch when I’m nervous.

There’s a sharp, lustful glance in the man’s eyes as he rubs my hand with his thumb, and when he steps away, letting go, for a moment I stand still, his food and my obligations forgotten.

Many shadow-wielders say meeting one’s Dark Companion can feel like a strike of destiny, but when I look at this massive human whose name I don’t even know, I don’t feel that at all.

This isn’t happening to me. I’m taking destiny into my own hands.