8. Amber
I wake with a scream,my heart racing, my muscles aching.
A familiar form lingers at the edge of my consciousness. The Shadow Lord. He still haunts my dreams, but they’re just that—dreams. He can’t get to me when he’s not truly there to start with.
Meanwhile, the past two days of training with Cassandra have been a nightmare. I swear, the woman takes pleasure by seeing how much she can torment me.
Unfortunately, she’s succeeding. Because my magic has been slipping through my fingers, just like the potion after the vial cracked that fateful night in the subway.
I’ve been trying to focus on training with my daggers instead of my magic, so Cassandra doesn’t see my weakness. I’m unsure if she’s caught on yet, but if she hasn’t, she will eventually.
Then, there’s the fact that I’m going out there to fight shadow souls any day now.
It was my stupid idea. I should take it back, given my weakening magic.
At the very least, I should tell Cassandra what’s going on. Maybe she can help me. I might not like her, but technically, she’s on my side.
Technically. Not definitely.
Because technically, Viktor was supposed to be on my side, too.
I have no idea who to trust or what to expect. I need answers. And I need them quickly.
So, I reach for my phone on the nightstand, half-hoping and half-dreading to see if Morgan found any leads on getting the potion out of my body.
There’s a text from her in response to my asking how it was going, but it’s less than encouraging.
I’m working on it.
I nearly throw the phone across the room in frustration.
Instead, I check on the messages I sent to Sunneva. But it’s still all messages from me, with no replies from her. It looks like a text chain from a desperate girl trying to get her ex-boyfriend back.
Can you tell me what’s going on?
Please talk to me?
I need answers.
Where are you?
Are you okay?
Why are you ignoring me?
The goddess who gifted me with her magic clearly doesn’t want anything to do with me. She’s probably regretting her decision to star touch me, just like how Damien’s probably regretting wanting me to be his queen.
But sitting here drowning in self-pity isn’t getting me anywhere. I have to get myself together.
And I know just where to go to do that.
So, I change into my training gear, grab my new favorite weapons—twin daggers—and take the elevator to the rooftop. Dawn is starting to cast its golden glow over the city, and I close my eyes, tilting my face upward and letting the sun’s rays sink into my soul.
With each breath, I draw in more light, imagining it as a lifeline pulling on my magic. It’s been my ritual these past few mornings, and luckily, it’s been working well enough to get me through each day of training.
After feeling decently replenished, I reach for the daggers in my boots, stare out at Central Park below, and hold them up to the sky.
Here goes nothing.
Practicing with them alone always feels awkward at first. But soon I’m lunging, spinning, and slicing through the air, each movement more confident than the last.
My imaginary partner quickly evolves in my mind to be the Shadow Lord.
He’s tall and imposing, with eyes like black holes that suck in all the light around him. His smirk is menacing, and he moves with a predatory grace, each step calculated to intimidate and dominate.
But with every dodged attack, my resolve hardens.
“You’re not real,” I say as my daggers slice through the air. “You can’t control me.”
I leap and twist, my blades cutting through the air in arcs of silver light. I’m not just fighting the Shadow Lord. I’m also pushing back at the fear of losing my magic—of becoming hunted and powerless in this world that’s out to get me.
As I imagine plunging my dagger into the heart of darkness itself, a door slams shut behind me.
I spin around, instinct taking over as I launch one of my daggers at the approaching threat.
Damien.
He moves in a blur, the air around his hand shimmering as he catches the dagger before it can strike.
I curse internally as silence descends between us, ready for anything.
I also can’t help admiring him as he examines the weapon. The first rays of sunlight highlight the precision of his jawline, and they enhance the penetrating gaze of his icy blue eyes, reminding me that he’s more than just a vampire. He’s a warrior king, every bit as lethal as the blade he’s currently holding.
My heart leaps into my throat as I search my mind for an apology—and an explanation.
“Not bad,” he says before I can speak, and he flips the dagger with effortless grace, tossing it back to me. “Your form could use some work though.”
Pride passes through me as I catch the dagger, though it’s quickly overshadowed by embarrassment for reacting so impulsively.
After all, that’s the word of the week when it comes to describing me.
Impulsive.
“You scared me,” I admit as he moves closer, my heart racing. “I thought you were... someone else.”
The Shadow Lord’s dark eyes reappear in my mind. But I push them away, holding the hilts of my daggers tighter to ground myself.
It helps, but not completely.
“The Shadow Lord?” he asks, although there’s no judgement in his tone. No suspicion that the Shadow Lord is haunting my dreams, and that I can’t get those dark, liquid eyes out of my mind, no matter how hard I try.
“Yes.” I think back to when the Shadow Lord wrapped his hand around my neck to drain my soul, and my anger flares up, as fresh as ever. “I’m going to destroy him.”
“And I look forward to the day I watch you do it.”
The air between us ripples with tension, the sharpness of Damien’s eyes taking my breath away.
“You believe in me now?” I ask, since it’s a far cry from the attitude he had in the gym the other day.
“I wouldn’t have put you up against Cassandra if I didn’t believe in you,” he says, and for the first time in a while, it feels like there might be understanding between us.
I should tell him that the potion is weakening my magic.
But if I do… what if this connection between us breaks? What if it reminds him that I did something stupid and reckless? What if he loses faith in me all over again?
As I’m figuring out what to say, Damien’s expression shifts, becoming serious and somber.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, because clearly, something’s wrong.
“As… inspiring as it is to watch you fight invisible monsters on the roof, I wasn’t looking for you to admire your skills with your daggers,” he says. “I was looking for you because I need to tell you something.”
“Okay…” I say, more on edge by the second.
“Last night, Lucas and some of his clan members killed two of our warriors who were patrolling uptown,” he says, and all thoughts of the Shadow Lord vanish as I process his words.
“Who?” I ask, bracing for the worst.
Abigail’s been out there these past few nights. She’s the one other person I’ve grown to trust and care about around here. If she’s gone…
“Eddie and Raquel,” he says, and just like that, I can breathe again.
It’s not that I’m not upset two of ours were killed. I am.
I’m just glad Abigail wasn’t one of them.
“Lucas is getting more powerful,” Damien continues. “My theory is that he’s using the Astral Compass to unite the downtown clans.”
“He’s gathering them against you,” I say darkly.
“Against us,” he corrects me, and just like that, I’m assured that despite our fight about the potion, he doesn’t hate me. “It’s a declaration of war. As if we didn’t already have one after Viktor’s betrayal.”
“As if we didn’t already have one against the shadow souls,” I mutter, and Damien glances at the expanse of Central Park before turning back to me.
“We’re protected from the shadow souls for the time being, thanks to Sunneva blessing the Fairmont to make it impossible for them to infiltrate our walls,” he reminds me. “As for Viktor…” He lets the sentence hang, pain crossing his eyes. “There’s nothing stopping him, Lucas, and the other members of their growing clan from trying to get in. And Viktor knows the ins and outs of the building. Which means Lucas and the others likely do now, too.”
“You think they can break in?”
“I think they’re going to try.”
My body tenses, hating the idea of being so vulnerable in the one place I was hoping I could finally feel safe. “So, what do we do?” I ask.
“Lucas and Viktor need to be taken care of,” he says. “And we need to get the Astral Compass back.”
“Taken care of,” I repeat, needing to make sure I understand correctly. “You mean...”
“Killed.”
As I thought.
“My kingdom comes first,” he continues, as if he didn’t just say he’s going to kill the man he’s seen as a brother for decades. The man he sired himself. “Viktor betrayed the kingdom. He tried to kill my bride-to-be. He was aware of the risks when he did it, and now he’s going to pay the price.”
Bride-to-be.
Out of everything he said, those words echo in my mind the most.
“I haven’t said yes to your proposal,” I say, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
It’s hardly the most important part of what he’s saying. But he sounds so annoyingly certainabout it, even though I haven’t decided yet and won’t have to decide for months.
He pauses, his eyes holding mine for a few seconds. “I know you haven’t,” he says. “And I’m not assuming your answer. Especially because right now, we have more pressing matters to deal with.”
“We do,” I agree, and he nods, seemingly content with my answer.
He walks closer to the railing, gazing out at the park, and I follow him over. It’s so peaceful out there. People are starting to filter in—going on their morning runs, walking their dogs, or tourists snapping photos in the soft light of dawn.
They have no idea about what’s actually out there. About what’s coming.
I’m going to help save them. Sunneva chose me for a reason—impulsivity and all. Morgan’s off who knows where, possibly doing something dangerous, to help me. My mom’s living a blissful life, ignorant to the dark truths of the world, up in Vermont.
I will not give up, and I will not fail. I owe it to myself—and to them—to succeed.
From the approving way Damien’s watching me, I don’t need the duskberry bond open between us to know he’s talking to me right now because he trusts me.
“I have a plan,” he says, as if I would have expected anything less. “And I’m going to need your help to do it.”
“I’m in.” I don’t stop to think before the words come out of my mouth.
His approval is replaced by a scowl.
“What?” I ask.
“It’s never wise to agree to something until you know what you’re promising to do.”
I scowl right back at him.
But, unfortunately, his point is fair.
“Fine,” I say, not wanting to start another argument. “Go on.”
He pauses for a moment, then says, “To counter the downtown vampires effectively, we need to strengthen our alliances. The shifter Guardians in the city are our best bet.”
“What do you need me to do?” I ask.
“The Guardians hold great respect for their star touched shifter, Ruby,” he continues. “Having you—another star touched—by my side when I talk to them might help us gain their support.”
“It’s a good idea,” I say. “And, like I said before—I’m in.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You don’t have any questions?”
Tons. Too many.
But only one, right now, that’s important.
“When do we leave?”
Something lights up in his eyes—amusement, or happiness. The most I’ve seen from him since I drank that potion.
But, as quickly as it arrived, he shifts back into the serious vampire king who’s determined to save his kingdom, no matter what.
“Given that you’re now a beacon for shadow souls, and that they can’t come out in the daytime, we need to go to the Guardians while the sun is up,” he says. “There’s no point in putting this off. So, I’ll give you a quick debriefing, and we’ll leave in two hours.”