Chapter 1
Violet
I was going to kill Adar.
Wait.
“What’s your last name?”
He paused mid-swing, the wooden staff freezing an inch from my rib cage. His black hair clung to his forehead, sweat beading down his temple, but his expression stayed the same as always—flat, unimpressed, vaguely murderous.
“What?”
“Your last name,” I repeated, lowering my staff before he could crack one of my already-aching ribs. “You know. Violet Ashwood. Sebastian Kieran. I know you’re not fae, but surely you have a family name.”
He blinked slowly, like he was deciding how much he hated me in that moment. “I do. Why?”
I shrugged, aiming for casual while every muscle in my arms trembled. “I like to know things. Especially the names of people I plan to haunt if I die doing this.”
And if I did end up killing him for the torture he put me through every morning, the respectful thing to do would be knowing his last name.
Also—after months of being here—I knew embarrassingly little about him. And that bothered me. Almost as much as the way he tried to kill me every day.
“Didn’t you know?” Bronwen’s voice drifted across the training yard before her I-told-you-so smile did. “Knowledge is power.”
She barely finished the sentence before laughter spilled from her, bright and unbothered.
Fine. Double homicide, then. Twin homicide, technically.
I scowled at her. She only grinned wider, propping her chin on her hand as if this was the best entertainment she’d had in weeks.
Adar rolled his eyes and leaned on his staff. “Delvaux.”
Delvaux.
It wasn’t a name from Alentara. Not even close. I filed that away just as he reared back to attack again.
Sebastian fully supported me claiming the Sun Realm—restoring it for my people—but he had conditions. I had to learn the full extent of my power, how to wield it properly, and at least the basics of hand-to-hand combat.
He said there was a very high chance we’d start a war the moment I stepped foot in Sun Realm territory, and I couldn’t always rely on my gifts.
Judging by how training was going, I wouldn’t survive the first five minutes.
Even though Adar had thrown me off a cliff the first time we trained, Sebastian remained adamant that he was my best chance at learning.
“Best chance” being a very generous way to describe daily humiliation.
After a lot of convincing—which included some unspeakable things he did with his shadows—I agreed, with one condition of my own: if I had to suffer through Adar’s training every morning, everyone had to suffer with me.
I regretted that almost immediately.
The commentary never helped.
The training field stretched just beyond the castle grounds—uneven earth ringed by skeletal trees whose branches clawed at the sky.
This was the same place Sebastian had nearly died weeks ago.
The memory haunted me. The thought of losing him after just finding him filled me with so much anxiety that I had to shove it down hard.
If I wasn’t careful, Sebastian could feel it.
Above us, the sky was its usual dusty blue, scattered with stars that never faded.
Every sound echoed too loudly—the thud of boots on dirt, the crack of wood on wood, the sharp rhythm of my breath. Each time Adar struck, the impact rippled across the field and vanished into the waiting trees.
“Keep your guard up,” he barked, sweeping the staff toward my shoulder. “They won’t warn you first.”
I blocked it—barely—and the shock rattled my arms. “You keep saying that,” I snapped. “My guard is up.”
“Then why do you keep getting hit?”
I swung at him. He deflected it with irritating ease.
Bronwen snorted from her spot on the stands she had built so she could lounge as she watched. “Because she’s bored. I’d be too, if I had to fight you every day.”
Adar shot her a glare, then turned back to me. “Again.”
I groaned, raising my staff. Every inch of me ached. My palms were raw, my shoulders burned, and my pride was hanging by a thread. I’d been at this for hours every day, and the only thing improving was my ability to survive Adar’s insults.
I swung again. Missed again.
I blinked, and he swung so quickly that my staff clattered to the ground as I stumbled back.
Adar sighed—the long-suffering kind that made me want to throw something. “You hesitate,” he said. “You think too much before you move.”
“Maybe because I don’t have centuries of combat experience or—oh, I don’t know—an undead nervous system,” I shot back, brushing sweat from my forehead. “And maybe because I’m trying not to die.”
He tilted his head. “You won’t die in training.”
“That’s reassuring, coming from the man who threw me off a cliff.”
“Still alive, aren’t you, Tinker Bell?” Adar said dryly.
“Unfortunately,” I muttered.
“Again, Vi,” Bronwen said.
I groaned. “You two are conspiring to kill me.”
Bronwen yelled across the yard. “You’ll thank us when you can block a real blade.”
Adar tossed me my staff as he mumbled, “And when you can stop flinching every time someone lunges at you.”
“I’m not flinching,” I lied.
I looked at the staff in my hand and wanted to quit for the day, but something about the challenge in Adar’s eyes stopped me. I tightened my grip and nodded him forward.
Adar’s brows lifted, but he didn’t argue. He lunged.
The first strike came fast—his staff a blur of movement—and this time I was ready. I blocked the blow and twisted to the side like he’d drilled into me. The wood cracked against my forearm, but I held steady.
“Better,” he muttered, circling.
I didn’t let him out of my sight. Sweat stung my eyes, but I blinked through it, waiting. He feinted left, then swung right—classic Adar—and I caught it midair, twisting his staff until it slipped from his hands and clattered to the dirt.
A stunned silence followed.
Even Adar blinked, momentarily thrown off.
Bronwen, of course, ruined it.
“Did you just disarm my brother?” she said, her grin spreading. “Gods save us all, she is learning!”
I turned my head just long enough to glare at her. “You’re not helping.”
That half-second of distraction was all it took.
By the time I looked back, Adar had the staff in his hand again. He swung—too close, too fast for me to block.
My breath caught.
But before the wood could reach me and surely crack a rib, a shadow erupted from the ground, black and alive. It wrapped around Adar’s arm like a serpent and yanked him backward. His feet left the ground, his body hitting the dirt with a hard thud that rattled through the field.
The shadows receded as fast as they’d appeared.
My whole body recognized him before my mind did.
He stood at the edge of the trees—dark coat stirring faintly in the wind, shadows drifting lazily around him like smoke that refused to fade. They curled and unfurled across his hands, alive and waiting.
Even from here, I could see his eyes. Dusty-blue. The kind of blue that didn’t belong to anyone else—soft at first glance, but bottomless when you looked too long.
Sebastian.
For a moment, everything else vanished—the field, the weapons, the ache in my lungs. I dropped my staff and transferred to him.
“Bash,” I breathed.
His smirk was small, almost soft. “You’re supposed to be dodging.”
“I was doing fine until you showed up,” I said, though my voice betrayed me.
He reached out, brushing his thumb along my cheek and a shadow slid to the back of my neck. “You always say that.”
Behind us, Adar groaned from where he’d landed, propping himself up on one elbow. “You’re not helping her,” he muttered.
Sebastian didn’t even look his way. “I’m protecting her.”
Adar scoffed, brushing dirt from his sleeve. “And it will get you killed.”
Sebastian’s eyes flicked toward him then, the air around us tightening as his shadows twined higher. “A small price to pay if she’s safe.”
My stomach twisted. That was what I was worried about. I shook the thought away as quickly as it came.
“I disarmed him,” I said.
“I saw. Next time, don’t hesitate to make the kill.”
I rolled my eyes. He pulled me in and kissed me.
“Take me away from here.”
He sighed. “I can’t. I need Adar.”
My nose scrunched. “Way to ruin the mood.”
“A Naga is headed to a small village, and I need to stop it before it makes it there. Do you want to help?”
“No. Take Adar. Leave Adar. Whatever feels right.”
He laughed.
I’ll make it up to you later, he sent down the bond as shadows curled warmly around my stomach.
Those shadows.
“Does that mean Vi is free to go shopping?”
I jumped as she was directly behind me and not across the field where she was supposed to be. “Gods, Bronwen! How did you manage to stay quiet long enough to sneak up behind me?”
“I can do a lot of things.” Her green eyes lit with excitement. “I just prefer not to.”
I groaned. “I am covered in dirt.”
She scrunched her nose. “And you smell, too. Clean yourself up and then we will go.”
Sebastian kissed my forehead. “I’ll see you tonight. Try not to burn down the city?”
I rolled my eyes again.