Chapter 43
Too long in the shadows
ZARA
I wake with a start, disoriented by the unfamiliar stillness. The past few days have been a whirlwind of chaos, leaving little time for sleep. Now, silence presses in on me, foreign and peaceful. My hand drifts to the space beside me, expecting to find Kade’s warmth, but it’s empty. That’s strange.
My eyes blink against the faint morning light that filters through the curtains as I sit up and stretch.
The aches of what happened in the chamber linger in my muscles, and even Kade’s attention hasn’t eased the pain away completely.
Kade’s been more than considerate, watching over me like I might shatter if left alone for too long.
His behavior is strange, but it brings a small, private smile to my lips. The warlock who knows no limits and is fierce and protective has discovered tenderness, and he seems to have embraced his newfound softness.
For now.
I’m not quite used to it. In all honesty, I don’t know if I can endure much more.
But now he’s missing and I don’t know what to do about it. The quiet feels wrong. Kade’s absence leaves a hollow ache in the air and I don’t like it. My heart races and a sickening feeling strangely close to anxiety starts surging through me, and I decide that I won’t rest easy until I find him.
I throw off the blankets and pad barefoot across Kade’s room, grabbing a shawl flung over the back of a chair.
The chill of the floor seeps into me as I head out the door, certain that Kade must be somewhere in this god-forsaken mansion.
He’s probably off scheming somewhere in the shadows, plotting his next move.
He’ll be planning our future and there’s not a fucking chance I’m letting him do that without me.
The hallways are eerily empty, the aftermath of the battles hanging in the air like a ghost that refuses to leave.
I pass a shattered sconce and a tapestry scorched at the edges, remnants of what we’ve endured.
My footsteps echo as I descend the grand staircase.
It’s too quiet. No murmured conversations, no movement from the others.
Until I hear murmured voices.
The sound comes from the depths of one of the mansion’s wings, low and jagged, like the scrape of a blade over stone. Kade’s voice is unmistakable, deep and smooth, laced with that quiet menace that never quite leaves him. The other voice is harsher, clipped and it’s got to belong to Darius.
I hesitate at the base of the stairs, fingers tightening around the shawl draped over my shoulders.
Darius isn’t the type to spill secrets easily, and Kade rarely engages without a purpose.
Whatever they’re discussing, it’s not idle.
It’s important, and interrupting them seems reckless, maybe even foolish.
I could gain more by eavesdropping. But my curiosity is stronger, as is my need to make fucking sure neither of them forget exactly who I am and so I march toward them, my bare feet silent against the cold stone.
“You think I don’t know what you’ve done?”
Kade’s voice cuts through the stillness, low and sharp.
Darius laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “What I’ve done, little brother? Spare me your righteousness.”
I catch myself, pressing my back against the wall, peering through the narrow gap in the door.
They’re in the study, the room lit only by the dull glow of embers in the hearth.
Kade stands with his arms folded, a killer in repose, while Darius leans against the edge of the desk, his posture deceptively relaxed.
“You lied to me,” Kade says, his tone colder now. “All these years, you let me believe she was nothing more than a tool, a means to an end.”
Darius’s expression darkens. “And what would you have done with the truth, Kade? Paraded it around like a trophy? Turned her into a pawn in one of your games? I kept her safe. That was the point.”
“She’s your wife, not some secret to bury,” Kade snaps, his control slipping for the briefest moment. “And I’m your fucking brother, Darius.”
“She’s mine,” Darius says, his voice low and vicious.
“My wife, Kade. Mine to protect. Mine to shield from the likes of you and Galen. Do you think I didn’t see the way you looked at her?
Like she was nothing. Like she was beneath you.
I couldn’t let you or anyone else touch her. You wouldn’t have understood.”
Kade’s fist slams into the wall and Darius doesn’t react.
“You let me think she was a fucking whore,” he snarls.
“Because that’s what you and Galen saw her as, Kade. That’s how you treated her and you were never going to fucking change. The only way to keep my wife safe was to carry on the fucking show until one or both of you changed your minds, or found a reason to see her as something more.”
The silence between them is suffocating, charged with fury and regret.
Kade’s jaw tightens, his breathing rough, but he doesn’t look away.
The flickering embers in the hearth cast jagged shadows across their faces, the light catching on Kade’s clenched fists and the rigid set of Darius’s shoulders.
It’s a tableau of barely contained violence, the room thick with the bitter taste of old wounds and festering truths.
For a moment, neither of them speaks, the only sound the faint crackle of the fire. The air hums with unsaid accusations and unrelenting pride, the kind of tension that could shatter with a single wrong word, or unleash something neither of them can take back.
“That’s what Galen offered you, isn’t it?”
Darius’s lips curl into a faint, sardonic smile, but there’s no humor in it, only a bitter edge that twists like a knife.
Kade steps closer, his voice dropping to a low snarl. “It wasn’t about me. It was never about choosing me. The only reason you turned on Galen was because you saw Zara. You thought she’d accept your wife, and you convinced yourself that it would mean I would too. That it would make me forgive you.”
Darius’s smile vanishes, his expression sharpening. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” Kade presses, his voice trembling with anger. “You didn’t betray Galen because he was wrong or because of what he did to me. Tell me it wasn’t because you saw an opening.”
“I don’t want Zara. I don’t need anyone to justify my choices. I turned on Galen because I saw what he was and what he’d become. I saw Zara, Kade. And I saw you too.”
Kade’s brows furrow, his anger faltering for a brief second.
“I saw the way you looked at her,” Darius continues, his voice quieter but no less intense.
“And for the first time in years, I knew I could trust you. You’d found something more than yourself.
Something powerful. Something worth fighting for.
And I thought…” His voice tightens, a rare glimpse of vulnerability breaking through.
“I thought that if you could see her, if you could find what I had with my wife, then maybe, just maybe, I hadn’t lost you completely. ”
Kade’s throat works, but his words don’t come.
Their conversation settles over me like a dark fog and I step closer to the door, increasingly uncertain whether I should intrude.
Kade and Darius aren’t just tearing into each other.
They’re unraveling years of secrets, lies, and half-truths.
My heart beats louder with every second, the sound filling my ears until it threatens to drown out their voices.
This isn’t just about me.
It’s never been just about me.
I could stay in the shadows, safe from their notice, but the thought tastes bitter.
A witch who doesn’t claim her space isn’t a witch at all; she’s prey, waiting to be devoured.
No. I won’t be the thing they argue over without daring to have my say.
I’ve spent too long in the shadows, too long without a voice.
This is my chance to speak and be heard, and I can’t afford to waste it.
I push the door open, its heavy wood groaning in protest. Both warlocks turn toward me, surprise flickering across their faces like lightning in a storm.
“I’m here,” I say, my voice steady despite the chaos in my chest. “So maybe instead of speaking about me like I’m some spell gone awry, you start including me in the conversation.”
Darius’s eyebrow arches and Kade’s expression softens, his gaze locking onto mine like I’m offering him a lifeline. The room feels charged, the tension between them so thick it might as well be a spell of obligation, its binding ready to snap and destroy the pair of them.
The air carries the faint tang of ozone, remnants of some spell gone cold, and the oppressive weight of unspoken truths presses against my skin. Shadows from the flickering firelight twist and stretch along the stone walls, clawing toward the ceiling like restless spirits.
“Don’t you think we have bigger things to worry about right now?” I ask, stepping further into the room. “Galen’s dead, and I’m betting there are a few warlocks out there who might consider seizing power in his absence.”
My words hang in the air like a blade poised to strike.
Both warlocks stiffen, their boots digging into the rug as if anchoring themselves.
Kade’s gaze sharpens, his dark eyes boring into me with an intensity that’s both searching and guarded.
Darius’s expression remains stoic, though the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrays the irritation simmering just beneath the surface.
“That’s going to be a fucking disaster, even if we survive it.”
I don’t miss the way Darius’s jaw tightens and I press on, stepping closer to the hearth, where the flickering fire casts harsh shadows across their faces.
“And that doesn’t even begin to solve any of our other problems.”