Chapter 13
My brows dive downward as I glare at the Shadow. “What’re you doing here?”
He considers me from his crouch on the forest floor. He scans my body, just once, then swallows hard before pulling his eyes back up to mine.
I fight the urge to plaster my hands over myself. Clearly, my new clothes have an effect on him, but to my relief, he doesn’t say so. Just, “I needed to see you, but you wouldn’t open your door. I figured if you wouldn’t talk to me there, maybe you’d talk to me here.”
“I don’t want to talk,” I snap. “I just want to run this maze and go home.”
He suppresses a wince. “I know. But I don’t want you in the Wildwood without a weapon. Without a clue as to where you’re going or what you’re doing. Amriel should never have sent you in here without having you talk to me, first.”
“Amriel?” The word sounds almost hysterical, and I can’t help but stomp toward him, glaring down through slitted lashes. I ignore the way his corded muscles ripple beneath indigo skin, but good goddess, why doesn’t he have a shirt on? Or armor? “You’re Amriel.”
His mouth flattens, his fingers twitching as they dangle between his bent knees. “Not exactly. I have no name. No goblin does.”
I wave an annoyed hand. “That’s a technicality. You’re Amriel’s goblin form. His…hopes. His wishes. His secret desires.”
He holds my eyes. “Yes.”
Ishanna’s blood, I almost wish he’d denied that. I drag my hands down my face, then force them to my sides, though I can’t stop my fingers from digging into my palms. “This is ridiculous. This is mad. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t not tell you. When you asked about mates, I told you they’re two souls, Princess. Two souls tied by fate. Not three.”
I stamp my foot, gratified when a twig shatters beneath my boot. He’s right, but… “You knew I thought you were brothers. Twins.”
He chews on that. “I suspected, but what was I supposed to do? You were already avoiding me. You barely let me near you. Was I supposed to tell you I was also someone you outright hate?”
When I don’t answer, his brows crook. “At least…I thought you outright hated him. But maybe you’re right. Maybe I should’ve said something. Maybe, if I’d told you I was Amriel’s Shadow, you might’ve kissed me, too.”
Something hot and red bubbles in my chest. Goddess, I want to slap him again, or scream. On second thought, I have no reason not to, so I do. Just throw my head back and holler at the top of my lungs, giving voice to this volcanic eruption of frustration and betrayal.
When I finish, the Shadow peers at me in shock.
“How do you even know about that kiss?” I hurl the question like I’m stabbing him with it. “Were you…watching, somehow?”
Something heated passes behind his eyes. He doesn’t answer right away, but the way he skims a thumb across his bottom lip does it for him.
“Oh, so you actually felt it,” I accuse. “Great. Why wouldn’t you, when me carving your shoulder carved his, too? Is that how Amriel always knew what you and I had talked about, then? Because he was listening? Because I was having a conversation with both of you at once?”
He hesitates. “Well—”
“So you are the same person,” I hiss.
Darkness clouds his expression. “That’s not…
Look. We were. And yes, we still share a body, and a fate.
Because if he dies, I die. If I die, he dies.
And yes, I can tell what he feels, hear what he thinks.
See what he sees. But everything that comes from him is muted, and I’ve spent so much time in this form that we don’t want the same things, anymore.
I’m him if he were ruled by passion, and he’s me if I were ruled by logic, but we’re two forks of a road that diverged long ago.
Me? I want nothing more than to keep you safe, Princess.
I’d die to do it. Happily. But meanwhile, he wants…
” He gropes for words, fails to find them, and glances down, his jaw tight.
“What?” I spit. “What does he want?”
“It’s…complicated,” the Shadow finally says. “He wants to want nothing. But he can’t, so he just fights with himself. And ends up being a pain in my ass as a result. In everyone’s.”
I blow out a breath. That much, at least, we agree on. “Okay, fine. So you were born one person, and now you’re functionally two. But what about the curse? If I break it, you’ll go back to how you were? You’ll be one person again? This separation is what’s hurting him so badly?”
He nods. “If you break the hourglass, we’ll be one again. And yes, he’ll be free of his pain. We will.”
I stare. In the silence, a shiver dances across his skin, so forceful I can see it, a flicker of purple light. I frown.
“Sorry,” he says. “That came from him. Mostly.”
I blink. “You mean he’s listening?”
His mouth twists. “He’s always listening.”
I shriek, venting another burst of outrage. “Goddess, will you stop, already? Just go away! Leave me alone!”
The Shadow’s eyes widen.
“I’m talking to him,” I clarify. “Not you.”
Then again, maybe Amriel can’t go away. Maybe he can’t shut off his awareness of what’s happening here any more than I can shut off my awareness of my left arm.
I shake my head. Goddess, this is…so confusing.
And in the end, it doesn’t actually matter. I don’t have time for this, and once I get home, Amriel and his Shadow will have ceased to be my problem. By then, they won’t even be two people anymore.
I pinch between my closed eyes, doing everything I can to calm myself. Deep breath in, deep breath out. When I open my eyes again, I toe the dagger. “This is for me?”
Tension drains from the Shadow’s shoulders, as if the topic change relieves him. “Yes. If anything tries to hurt you out here, anything at all, I want you to stab it. Stab it until it’s dead, all right? Then stab it five more times, just to be sure.”
I force a swallow. “That’s… Okay. Sure.”
He hesitates, then grabs the sheathed dagger and rises. He holds out the weapon, which attaches with a leather belt. “Can I?”
I eye him, then the dagger. “No. I’ll do it myself.”
His lips thin, but I take the belt and loop it around my hips, pulling the end through the buckle. Which accomplishes nothing, because it doesn’t fit. Why would it? It’s his. Even the smallest setting is much too large.
“Please,” he says, watching my frustrated tampering. “Let me help you.”
I fiddle a moment longer, then glance at my orb bracelet, which shows me the starlit hourglass, sand trickling through its waist. Most of my time still remains, but it runs shorter by the second. “Fine. Go ahead.”
He reaches for the buckle, and I yank my hands back, knowing what will happen if we touch. How easily I’ll lose myself. Even now, with him standing this close, a silky promise pulls at me, whispering of heat and unity and the incomparable ecstasy of surrender.
I shake my head, clearing the invasive thoughts.
The Shadow tugs at my belt, using his claw to poke a new hole before threading the metal prong through. I stare straight ahead, not trusting myself to look at him. Except I end up watching the flex and bunch of his chest, the striation of each muscle as he cinches the belt tight.
Ishanna help me.
His fingers fall away, his brows pushing together as he stares down at me. “I could help you, you know. At night. We could navigate the maze together.”
I take a giant step back, ignoring the whoosh of green sparkles that spout up around my boot. “No. I came in here to get away from you. Not get closer.”
He tenses as if holding back a flinch. “All right. But I can’t let you get hurt. I can’t. I’d rather send you through the Aethrolian door myself than let this place put even a scratch on your skin.” His voice breaks on the last word.
I study him. And against all logic, I actually consider it. But as I stand there, his scent creeps into my nose, bathing my brain, tightening around me like a fist.
He feels it, too, I can tell. This…need singing in the air between us. He hides it better than he usually does, but his hands flex at his sides, his claws curling and uncurling. And while he might have control of himself now, I know it won’t last.
It can’t.
“No,” I say. Forget trusting him—I don’t trust myself. And I can’t spend another minute here, letting my human senses acclimate to this mate bond. “I’m doing this on my own.”
“What? Why can’t I help you?”
“Because.” Now that I’ve decided, there’s no point arguing. “You’re not even wearing clothes. Now back up. I’m going that way, and I’m not about to put my back to you.” I point past his shoulder.
He opens his mouth, then shuts it again with a click of his fangs. But he does as I ask, padding backward, allowing me to move into the forest without closing the distance between us. Puffs of green glitter fountain up around his bare feet.
My new dagger bumps against my leg, its weight unfamiliar but oddly reassuring. I scan for the tree-door from last time, but see no sign.
“I only left my armor behind so you can stab me,” he says, “if you need to. So you’ll have a clear path to my heart. This is the best access, right here. Between these two ribs.” His claws tap his chest.
My steps fumble, my ankle nearly turning, but I correct at the last moment. “Don’t tell me that. I’m not going to kill you.”
He frowns, genuine horror in his eyes. “You have to, though. If I come for you again, don’t hesitate. Look what I’ve done to you already.” He gestures toward my mostly healed leg.
“I hate to break it to you,” I say, “but you’re definitely going to come for me again. I’ll just…run. Hide. I don’t know. But I’m not going to kill you.”
His expression darkens. “That’s a terrible plan.”
Cold laughter burbles up. “Do you have a better one?”
“Yes. Go through every door you can, during the day. The labyrinth is always shifting, always changing, and I hunt by scent. Every portal you go through…by the time I reach it, it won’t lead to the same place. I won’t be able to follow, and I’ll have to find your trail again, start all over.”