Chapter 16

Sylvan

I t’s like watching my future vaporize and disperse into nothingness in front of my very eyes. Hawk’s shadow was the only means of earning my way back into Lord Kyran’s graces and back to the Nocturne Court. To lose it means being stuck in the human realm until I become a husk of my former self like Tassarion has.

But when Hawk approaches, attempting to stand between me and the dancing shadows, as if he believes himself capable of protecting me from a user of shadowcraft, the fury inside me turns green. Perhaps there are more humans out there, who escaped the River of Souls and have a shadow dark as the depths of Grief Ocean. Perhaps I could tie myself to someone else, but that person would not look at me the way he does, wouldn’t be so dependable, patient and loyal. They wouldn’t be so ready to place himself between me and danger. And I sincerely doubt their touch would feel as addictive.

I peek out at Tassarion from behind Hawk. “What have you done?” I say through clenched teeth, still in disbelief over what has just happened. “Release him!”

The grimsmith shrugs and wraps his arms on his chest, but his pale shadow remains close to his feet. It’s nowhere near as strong as it must have been at the peak of his craft.

“You’re a prince of the Nocturne Court. You know the bond is unbreakable.”

I step out from behind Hawk and put my hand on the axe to let him know I’ve got this under control, even though I definitely don’t. I must remain confident if I am to deal with this lowlife.

“You’re a master of grimsmithery. If someone can break such a bond, it’s you.” I flatter him in an attempt to sort out this mess.

Tassarion shakes his head with a smug smile. “No one can do that, not even the Lord of the Nocturne Court. I will make much better use of his shadow than you ever could. Besides, look how his shadow calmed down.” He points out that the wild tendrils around Hawk’s darkness have settled. “It was begging to be taken.”

Hawk stares at him, then back at me, lowering the axe as confusion colors his face pink. “Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on here? I’m all for weird kinks, but this is me using my safe word. I feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone !”

A low rumble leaves Tassarion’s mouth and shadows carry him across the floor, as if he were gliding on one of those mobile walkways I’ve seen at the mall.

“You shall see today. It’s Full Moon in the Nightmare Realm, and I’m willing to break the rules of my banishment to make you my Dark Companion,” the smith whispers.

Dark tendrils slide over the walls in a gleeful dance, and Hawk’s mouth drops open as he inhales, going tense. “What was in that coffee…? Was it… spiked?”

My heart is hot and cold at the same time. It’s not just about the potency of Hawk’s shadow anymore. This is an affront to the Goldweed name.

Nobody takes what’s mine.

I stand in front of Hawk. “Stay back, he’s dangerous,” I say because while Tassarion’s shadowcraft is diminished by the years he spent in the human realm, neither of us knows the extent of his powers. I’m only glad Hawk isn’t his Dark Companion yet, because if he were able to use Hawk’s shadow freely, I’d be helpless against him. He would have choked the life of me within seconds, and since I’m banished, he wouldn’t even be punished for it.

“I sure am. And I’m not giving up on an opportunity like this.” Tassarion extends his fingers to his face. “I will treat you well—”

Hawk leans back as if he were about to be touched by a limb swarming with maggots and slaps the hand away.

That’s it.

I lose it. This bastard is not allowed to even look at Hawk, let alone speak to him.

I launch myself at Tassarion with a primal screech. I don’t care how strong the bond of their shadows is. I will break it.

I have the advantage of the grimsmith not expecting my physical attack, so I pounce at him. He’s leaning forward, still surprised by Hawk’s rejection, so I target the first thing I can get my teeth on and bite his cheek.

My opponent roars, grabbing at me, as if he couldn’t decide whether he wants me off or not. As I cling to him, my shadow is cast on both of theirs. I search for a weakness in their new bond, a place where I can cut it, or some reassurance that the threads are somehow slipping free at least, but there’s nothing. They are one. Welded like the fucking collar was on me.

Hawk’s no longer mine, and the anguish of that fact makes me clench my jaws until I taste blood.

The smith roars, and when a push doesn’t get me off, I feel a dire force pry my jaws open. I let go before any of my teeth can crack, but a punch sends me stumbling to the floor with copper on my tongue and stars spinning around my head, along with the whole room.

Hawk’s silhouette is a comforting dark figure, but before I can fully recover, he drops the axe and dashes behind Tassarion, twisting his arms back. “Sylvan! Are you okay?”

Tassarion snarls at Hawk in fury. “I’ll teach you how to behave!”

Even his throat is red and the veins on it protrude from under the skin.

I know what to do.

I know how to break their bond.

My shadow gathers over my fingers, and I shape it into razor-sharp claws. I may not have much talent, but I’ve learned how to make the best of it.

Tassarion’s shadows try to grab my foot, but I leap forward and slash his neck without mercy.

Blood splashes onto my face and spills down his bare chest as his dark eyes lose focus. I’ve gone straight for the jugular, and he’s already collapsing. Hawk lets the smith drop into the red puddle. He steps back, staring at me with eyes the size of necropearls, but his shadow grows unruly again, trembling and pulsing as Tassarion dies at our feet. I’ve never killed anyone with my bare hands before, but I don’t regret a thing.

I wipe my face with the sleeve of my shirt and spit out excess blood as the crimson flood reaches the tips of my shoes. All I care about is my promised, and as soon as the thread connecting the stolen shadow to Tassarion snaps, I’m there to snatch it.

“You’re a real life psycho twink,” Hawk mumbles, watching me, as if he isn’t sure if approaching me is the wisest of decisions.

I pull a wooden stool close and stand on it so we are face to face as I kiss him. I stare right into his eyes, and slide my hands to his stubbly cheeks. “No one is taking you away from me. Not him, and not even the Lord of the Nocturne Court.”

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