Chapter 21
To secure the goodwill of a shadow spirit, chaos must be embraced.
—THE LITTLE BOOK OF SPELLS
Thea’s heartbeat fluttered in her neck as the boat slid across the water toward the castle, her senses on alert, her nerves stretched taut.
She was going to do something very smart or extremely foolish, and she didn’t know which it was yet.
As the boat reached the shore, a soft, deep voice emerged from the darkness. “You came.”
Thea spun to see Damon sitting on the ground a few feet away, as if he’d been waiting there.
“You didn’t think I would?” she asked, her pulse throbbing faster at the sight of him.
Even cast in shadows, he was a beautiful thing.
The sparkling depth in his eyes, the velvet eyebrows, the sculpted face.
His lips could inspire odes. For once, she didn’t try to fight her reaction to him. She meant to use this attraction.
“I didn’t know,” he admitted. “You were angry. You had every right to be.”
She was still furious. But she had an agenda, and that didn’t include lambasting him all evening. Still, he’d think it odd if she was all sweetness after what he’d confessed.
“I can’t forgive you for what you’re doing,” she told him, moving to stand closer. “But I don’t know how else to get answers. Don’t you think I deserve to at least understand why my life is forfeit?”
He put a hand to the ground and pushed lithely to his feet. The gracefulness of his movements made her shiver. “You deserve far better than that. I wish…” He held his hand out, then let it fall, as if he thought she wouldn’t take it.
She reached down slowly, taking his hand in hers, warmth flooding her senses at the contact. “Dance with me?” Her voice was hoarse, her tone soft. She let her lips curve up. “Then answer my questions.”
Though he seemed reluctant to enter the castle, his eyes warmed at her comment. “At least you’ve accepted how it works.”
There were fewer couples than before. Eighteen folk left.
Thea felt a lurch of pity to think what had happened to them, then fury at Damon all over again.
She did her best to hide both, keeping her face impassive as she focused on the music and the steps.
It was a Sylvan dance she well knew, and the same tune they had danced to at least five times.
It struck her as oddly happy for this place of entrapment.
“You must like this music,” she observed, careful not to phrase it as a question. “It plays almost every night.”
Damon’s eyebrows went up for a moment before he chuckled. “I suppose I do. I heard it at one of your revels.” His glance fell away from hers for a moment, then he lifted his chin and met her eyes. “The first time I saw you. It was before your name day.”
Thea sucked in a breath. “You were there before I ever saw you?”
“Not actually there. It’s a projection of my image using my shadows. I can see and hear through them.”
That made Thea shiver with unease. “What were you doing? Spying, I suppose.”
He didn’t look repentant. “First of all, testing if my shadows could get past your wards. You already know that fire thins the veil, and there’s a large fireplace in your great hall. Your Seer should have known that and placed extra protection there.”
Thea soaked in every word. She couldn’t believe he was telling her so much. “That’s why you were able to create a doorway in my bedchamber tonight.”
His head tilted to the side. “Wait. The portal appears near my father’s trees.”
She’d assumed he was directly responsible. “I was locked in my bedchamber. The shoes danced in front of the hearth and a portal appeared.”
His eyebrows went up, and he looked worried. “Creating a doorway is beyond my knowledge. Only my father could do something like that.”
“Does he know about me?” she asked.
Damon paused for a few moments, the sound of the music covering what might have been a tense silence otherwise.
“He knows you exist. He does not know you’re here.
But if he opened a portal, it makes me think he is planning to make contact with you.
” He put his hand on her shoulder, breaking time with the music.
Her feet stopped moving, and she stared back at him.
He drew her away from the dance toward the statue of Solis, where they’d spoken before. Thea’s heart refused to calm. Part of her longed to allow herself to give in to what he made her feel. Another part knew that was foolish and deadly.
“What future do you want for yourself?” he asked, surprising her with the question. “If you had a choice?”
“I’d want to be what I am now,” she told him. “A soldier in the Sylvan army. A defender of the forest folk. I want the freedom to protect the people I love.”
“You must have ambitions,” he said, his eyes urging her to tell him. “You are too impressive not to desire more.”
“I do have one wish,” she said, taking his hand, “but you’ll have to pay to know that.”
“What currency do you require?” he asked, his eyes lit with curiosity.
“Not much,” she said, her heart beating double time. “Just a kiss.”
Damon’s eyes flared wide. “A kiss,” he repeated, his shadows swirling rapidly around his neck and shoulders.
Why would they move faster now? Thea thought of Autumn’s vision. How was Damon controlling the shadows? Or was he unable to control them in this moment? Thea could feel his pulse fluttering in his wrist, matching the manic rhythm of her own.
“Is that so much to ask?” She moved subtly closer, her head tilted up so that their lips were inches apart.
He took her other hand, sending a jolt of warm electricity through her. As he stared at her, unspeaking, she had a moment to second-guess her plan. She needed to test how loyal Damon’s shadows were to him, but would a kiss make her more vulnerable?
If the shadows liked passion, well, she could supply them. If they liked strength, she was strong.
The warmth in Damon’s eyes told her this attraction went both ways. If she could get him to lose a bit of that self-control, maybe the shadows would be drawn to her? It was a murky, vague plan, but it was a plan.
Some hesitation moved behind his eyes as he considered her request. “You were right, you know, not to touch me when we first met. Touch strengthens my magic.”
“You can just say no, Shadow Stranger,” she teased.
He took a step closer, bringing them an inch apart. Stars shone in his midnight eyes. “I only wanted to make sure you understood the risk.”
“I live for risk.” She tilted her head to the side, smiling up at him. “Didn’t your shadow spies tell you that?”
He lifted a hand, his fingers threading into her loosely braided hair.
When he grabbed the braid and tugged to get her chin to tilt up, she gasped.
His fingers brushed her neck, sending warm shocks down her spine, her nipples hardening as he pressed against her.
She met his eyes, knowing he could probably see the rapid pulse in her throat.
She put a finger on his neck where his heart beat visibly, dragging it down to where his collar covered his skin.
She watched his nostrils flare and his eyes dilate.
“What you do to me,” he breathed, warm and spiced against her cheek. “You are surely hunting me, Sylvan. I have read about your father’s history, you know. The Wild Hunt he undertook to cull the humans before your people moved into Thirstwood.”
Thea blinked. She’d heard something about this from Cassia, and she now realized there was much she needed to question about her father and his history. But she didn’t want to talk about that now.
Her fingers moved to his jaw, sliding toward the corner of his mouth. “Once, when I was on patrol, I was separated from the other Huntsmen and was cornered by a wolf.”
He blinked at her topic change. “They say there are not many wolves left in Thirstwood. Did you kill it?”
She slid her finger along his bottom lip, watching as he sucked in a breath. “I couldn’t. My father forbade any Huntsmen from killing the wolves in our forest. As you said, so few of them are left.”
His hand slid to the back of her head, his touch pouring honey down her spine. “But surely it was a choice between your life and the wolf’s?”
“Most people would say so.” She traced the bow of his lip with her index finger, feeling him shudder against her.
“I saw another choice. I sat against the trunk of a tree, knowing it would do its best to protect me. I told the tree to trap instead of kill the creature if it attacked. After that all I remember is my own white breath in the cold, and the wolf’s yellow eyes staring at me. ”
Damon’s fingers tensed as they cradled her nape. “Did it attack?”
Her eyes were fixed on his, which were rapt with attention.
“It came right up to me. Snarled. I didn’t react.
It stared at me for a long time.” Her eyes roved his perfect features, and she allowed herself to take pleasure in them, to allow his beauty to affect her so he could feel the joy running through her body.
“I didn’t challenge it, and it didn’t challenge me.
Two killers staring at each other in the dark.
” She snaked her arms around his back and rested her cheek against his shoulder, shivering at the feeling.
“Since you already had some practice defying your father, why didn’t you kill it?” Damon asked, drawing away to meet her eyes again. His shadows moved closer to her, almost as if they were listening to her story. “It would have made your forest safer for every other creature.”
“Who says I didn’t?” She felt his indrawn breath, the warmth of his body at odds with the brush of shadows cooling her skin.
They were all around her now, swirling into her hair, between her fingers, against her neck.
She didn’t find it as unpleasant as she’d expected.
“How do you know I didn’t have a cloak made from its pelt? ”
His eyebrow lifted, his eyes deep as his hand slid to her upper back. “Then what would be the point of your story?”
She smiled, enjoying that he was paying attention. She lifted her left arm between them, showing the crisscross of white scars on her forearm. “I had to wrestle it to the ground and hold it there. Until it tired of snarling at me.”
“That must have taken some strength,” he observed, admiration in his expression.
“It was grueling,” she agreed proudly. “But Sylvans are strong.”
“That was a risk. You should have ended it.” His hand tightened on her back. “Someone has to be prey.”
“Sometimes,” Thea said, “a predator is too beautiful to kill.” She touched her lips to his chin, a heady feeling coming over her as he sucked in a sharp breath. She met his eyes before adding, “Besides, I’ve always liked wolves.” And she lifted her face to his.
Her breath shivered out at the grazing of his lips against hers.
Soft, inviting. Oh, Ancients, the feel of him.
Better than she’d expected. Better than anything.
She pressed closer, harder. Her hand caught in his hair, her fingers gripping him.
He groaned, his hands moving over her back.
His shadows swirled in rapid time to her pulse.
“Ancients save me,” he whispered. “You taste sweet.”
She pulled back for breath, knowing her own eyes must look as dazed, her own cheeks as flushed.
She tried to think of the stable grooms she had thought handsome in Scarhamm.
She couldn’t even bring their faces to mind.
“I can’t remember what it felt like to be with anyone else.
Your magic?” She couldn’t help it. She wanted to know how much of this was real.
His eyebrows came together sharply. “No. I’m not using any magic on you, Thea. However, I don’t care to hear about your previous lovers at the moment.” Before she could argue, he added, “And don’t talk about the future. Any future. There’s only now.”
That cooled her ardor. She might not have a future, and he was reminding her of it. But her plan was about finding the other option. Not killing the wolf, but not dying, either.
“Don’t dismiss me so quickly,” she said.
He gripped her shoulders and put a hairsbreadth of distance between them.
“Don’t show me paths I can’t travel.” His hands flexed on her shoulders, pulling her closer again as if he regretted that small distance. “Don’t toy with the wolf, Thea.”
She smiled up at him, a feline, predatory smile. “Without risk, where’s the fun?” And pressed her lips once again to his.
The music faded to the back of her mind as she kissed the shadow prince. The only sound she cared about was his breath hitching and the rhythm of his heart pounding against hers.
When they finally drew apart, the shadows stayed with Thea.
Just for a moment, before they returned to Damon.
But it had been enough. Her heart raced, a heady triumph making her almost as dizzy as his kisses.
He didn’t seem to notice that his shadows had briefly clung to her.
His lips were swollen, his eyes dazed on hers.
The song came to an end. Damon blinked, seeming to become aware of their surroundings. “I believe you owe me an answer,” he said, straightening the collar of the shirt she’d put askew.
Thea raised her brows, fighting annoyance that he was coming back to reality faster than she could.
“Your secret ambition,” he reminded her, his hand moving into her hair as if he couldn’t help himself.
“Oh, that.” She nodded, planting a kiss on his wrist that made him inhale sharply. “Fair is fair.” She flicked her eyes up to his. “What I want is to be First.”
Damon nodded, approval in his warm gaze. “You’re a natural leader. But you don’t have to be promoted to First, Thea. You are already first.”
Thea gave him a questioning look. “I’m only a lieutenant. What do you mean?”
He chuckled softly, as if her confusion amused him. “I think we have both answered enough questions for one night.”
Thea was still holding Damon’s hand. It felt warm and reassuring and solid, all the things he wasn’t. She let go, but he held on a second longer. His eyes swept over her, hair to toes. Then he took a breath and said, “Take her home.”
The white oval appeared. Thea took a step toward the root that emerged from the doorway.
Had she met her goals tonight? He’d made her so muddled, she wasn’t sure.
She turned back and put her hand to his neck, feeling the shadows there, enjoying the look of longing in his eyes.
He didn’t seem to notice when the shadows clung to her fingers.
She took a breath, satisfied by that sign, and dropped her hand to her side. Yes, she was making progress. Though this growing need to be close to him made her wonder: At what cost?
“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” Damon said, his tone wistful. “Stay safe.”
What an odd thing to say when he posed the greatest threat to her. Unspeaking, she turned her back and stepped through the portal.