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

Chapter 28

Sylvan

I ’ve never been as tired as after the dreary three days in the swampland.

Fenren and his crew have safe houses along a route known only to them, but in order to reach the subsequent hideouts before nightfall, we needed to keep up a punishing speed. As a prince, I never had to lower myself to physical labor, and any trip beyond the bounds of the palace warranted a well-kept steed or carriage. Yet now I’m expected to keep the same pace as people with legs much longer than mine as we traverse treacherous terrain, often ankle-deep in water.

The rocky path is slippery, the smells of the swamp are at times unbearable, though navigating a conversation with Fenren is the trickiest part of the whole ordeal. I need to give him enough information about my return from banishment so it doesn’t feel as if I’m hiding something, while most definitely hiding something .

He wants to know about the Nocturne Court, about my mother, about the Lord’s new Dark Companion, and even why I don’t enjoy hot soup. His never-ending questions are giving me a headache, and stifle my conversations with Hawk.

At night, we have to sleep on damp floors with threadbare blankets, but at least Hawk is by my side and embraces me, even though we haven’t even kissed since the fight at the inn. I don’t know if I love lying in his strong arms or if it makes me miss physical closeness with him so much I’m on the verge of madness.

Until last week, I had not been intimate with a man and had no prospects for it. I’d even venture that I was at peace with solitude being my lot in life. But now I have tasted my beloved’s lips, I know what it means to be one with him, and for his greedy hands to roam all over my body. How am I to live with the uncertainty of whether my husband still craves intimacy with me?

Has my use of his shadow affected his trust so deeply that he no longer desires me? The injured hand, which Ivy secured with two pieces of wood and a string, is a physical reminder of my failure to protect him. And while I keep offering him help, it doesn’t seem to be enough to make our relationship as intense and carefree as it was before.

Despite boots protecting me from the water, all the wading still leaves my feet cold, and I’m grateful when Fenren leads us back onto dry land, and under an ashen willow as big as a house. There’s one in the palace gardens at the Nocturne Court, but it’s not nearly this size, so I gawp at its impressive vines, which cascade from branches high above like a cloak made of purple flowers.

“Short break,” the King of Smugglers decides before settling on a thick root protruding from the ground. He pulls out the same stale potato bread we had to endure in the morning, and bites in like it’s a delicacy. It’s not even crispy on the outside, just… old.

Hawk is too hungry to care, so I offer him my sandwich with gooey mushroom paste and sit down at the edge of the water to give my poor legs some relief.

While it is a moment of respite, I’m stuck mulling over the conversation I had with Hawk three days ago. I go over what I said wrong, what I could have said differently, what I could have omitted altogether.

It’s not helpful.

At least my husband isn’t avoiding me anymore and settles next to me, chewing his food loudly as a kelpie. It used to annoy me, but now I’m happy he feels comfortable around me. “This is like a better version of hummus. My ex used to eat that stuff all the time, and it was good. But this ? Amazing,” he concludes before offering me a flask of tea.

It’s gotten lukewarm by now, so I take a sip. “I’m glad you enjoy it. You might need the strength when my legs fall off and you will be faced with the choice of carrying me or leaving me behind,” I say grimly and throw a stone into the water.

Hawk chuckles and leans back, turning his face toward the moon high above us. It’s still quite full, and its silver glow makes his face shine as if he were covered with a thin layer of dust made from mother of pearl. “That’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it?”

I pout. “Well, taking into account that we are still at least three days away from the Nocturne Castle, no, I think it is a valid complaint. Wait— Is that…?” I jump to my feet and strain my eyes. “Wait here!” I say to Hawk and run over to Fenren and Ivy, because I swear I saw a spyglass in his pack.

“Would you mind lending me that?” I ask, pointing out the object dangling from his belt.

Blue eyes peek at me as he chews his bread. “Your Highness, I believe your husband has a perfectly usable appendage.”

I’m so stunned I just stand there as hot and cold flushes hit my face. “How insolent!” I choke out in the end. “You have overcharged me sevenfold for our wedding celebration, and now you insult me further? Give me that!” I reach for the spyglass at the same time as he does to protect it from my clutches, but even without Hawk’s shadow, I’m able to create a barrier that stops him. His surprise gives me enough time to snatch it, but just as I grab it, Fenren’s fingers close on my forearm, and he winks at me, shaking his red mane.

“That’s a bit forward. My child is right there,” he says.

Ivy sighs before rubbing her cheeks. “Don’t bring me into whatever’s going on there.”

I take a deep breath, because I don’t want to start a fight with the man leading us out of this maze of hidden swamp paths.

“Please,” I groan. “I will return it swiftly.”

Hawk turns to us. “Everything all right there?” he asks with his mouth full.

“Yes! I’m just borrowing something!”

“A bit of innocent flirting, don’t you worry,” Fenren says, making me see red. The last thing I need is for this goddamn rogue to convince Hawk that my eyes wandered, but my husband shrugs.

“You wish, smuggler. He likes them way taller than you are.”

Fenren assesses me from head to toe. “How does it even fit?”

I raise my eyebrows. “How do you know I’m not the stud?”

Fenren snorts, but finally releases his hold on the spyglass. “Fine, fine, you got me there.”

I ignore him and run back to Hawk’s side. I bounce with excitement as soon as a peek through the spyglass confirms that I correctly identified the clusters of tiny white flowers on thick leaves floating in the water.

“I knew it! Marroweed,” I say to Hawk, already assessing how far it is. “Those white flowers over there,” I point them out and pass him the spyglass. “You can mash them into a pulp and put it over the skin. As it dries, it creates a cast. When it later turns gray, you know the marrow has been absorbed.”

Hawk swallows his food. “...What?”

“Bone marrow. Hawk. For your finger. It will heal your broken bone.”

He looks down on the contraption attached to his right hand, then at me. “Are you sure?”

It hurts that he doesn’t trust me, but then again, everyone keeps warning him about every single thing in this goddamn swamp. For good reason. There are creatures here that would gladly eat the tasty morsel that he is, but one has to make bold choices to achieve great results.

“Well… yes. I just need to get there. I could use shadow to weave a path over the water.” I touch his arm in excitement, and its warmth reminds me how much I miss his touch. I want to do this nice thing for him so badly, especially since his hand aches to the point of him struggling to hold heavy things in it. When he recoils, the fire of my enthusiasm is extinguished.

“I… no, there’s no need. It’ll get better on its own,” Hawk says and pulls his hand to his chest, as if he expects me to grab it.

I lick my lips, unsure how to approach this gentle subject, but I’m not letting it go, because the marroweed is right there . Why should he suffer for no reason?

“Hawk, please. I promised to use barely the surface of your shadow. Not only will I not overuse it, I will not need to even consider such an option. It will feel like but a tingle in your palms, but my own power is too weak to hold my weight. Let me help you.”

Hawk rubs his face and takes a sip from his flask. “No. I really… don’t want to feel that sensation again,” he says, lowering his voice. “It’s like having fuel siphoned out of me.”

I huff in frustration. “That’s only because I used far too much too fast. Do you not trust me?”

Ivy whistles. “Woo, trouble in paradise? That was quick.”

Hawk ignores her and meets my gaze. “That’s not the point. This whole thing makes me feel like I’m at your mercy, and I fucking hate that. Five years in prison, and I’m really fed up with being chained up.”

I turn to Ivy in frustration. “Stuff that sandwich in your mouth and be silent!” I take a deep breath. “Hawk, this is unreasonable. You are thrice my size. I am at your mercy at any given time, and I accept that because I trust you. I accepted the risk even before we sealed our bond. Look.” I draw a piece of his shadow to my hand, then flatten it with ease so it resembles a leaf. I blow at it, and it falls into place on the water several feet from us. All my years of blood, sweat, and tears to reach a reasonable level of shadowcraft, and now, with the depth of power hidden in his, every skill and trick is easy like kneading dough is for a royal baker.

I point to the leaf. “See? Did you even feel a thing?”

He’s quiet as he moves his gaze to me. I know he’s not happy even before his mouth opens. “You took it, even though I told you not to? What the hell, Sylvan?” he asks, scrambling to his feet, ready to march off.

“I promised to use barely the surface and that’s what I did! I bet you didn’t even feel it at all.” I stand my ground, because he’s being obtuse.

“That’s not the point,” Hawk snaps, but as I step toward him, already holding my index finger ready to poke his chest, water sprays us both, and massive black teeth close on the shadow leaf, taking it back into the depths.

We both go still, unsure what this was, but Fenren and Ivy are already on their feet, dashing away from us.

“Run! Run, run, run!” the King of Smugglers yells, and I know we’re fucked.