Chapter 18
?──── Koen ? ────?
Something wet slams into my face.
I gasp, choking on water as I jerk upright with a strangled cough. My body protests the movement. Everything hurts, my shoulder throbs, and my chest feels like it has been crushed by stone.
“Are you finally awake?” Serenya snaps. “Are you ser— Koen, I swear to the goddess—”
I blink through the haze and squint up at the figure pacing like a madwoman a few steps away.
The dull gleam of silver catches my eye, her circlet.
Her long white hair is a wild, tangled mess, and her hands are clenched into fists.
Even in this wild state, she’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
“What…what happened?” I rasp.
“You nearly got yourself killed , that’s what happened!” she barks, throwing her hands up. “What were you thinking trying to fight that—that thing?!” She jabs a finger behind her. “You should have run !”
I look around, squinting. We are no longer anywhere near the ruins. We are in a patch of half-submerged trees, the moonlight shining through branches, casting long, black shadows across the water. My body hurts in places I didn’t even know existed.
“…Where are we?” I manage to say.
“I dragged your half-dead body miles away from that gods-forsaken ruin while being chased by a demon , Koen! You’re welcome, by the way!”
I cough again. “...demon?”
Serenya spins on me, fury radiating from every inch of her. “Yes, a face-wearing demon thing. A mawless! Cloaked, tall, all bones and shadows. Oh, and...umm...let me think… it had Aren’s face ! Do you not remember that part?!”
“…I thought I dreamed that.”
“Oh, no. That happened.” She turns and resumes pacing, faster now, water splashing around her with every step. “I bound the thing in shadows just long enough to get you out of there. You’re lucky I got to you in time! If I’d waited even a minute longer...”
My brows furrow as I watch her. “How did you even find me?”
She stops mid-step. She chews on her lower lip, hesitating for a moment like she can’t decide if she should answer.
“I sent one of my shadows with you,” she says finally. “Before you left. I told it to stay hidden and keep watch. I didn’t tell anyone. I just...”
I stare at her. “You sent a—wait…One of your shadows?”
“Yes,” she snaps. “And good thing I did! Because if I didn’t, you would be dead.
Dead, Koen . You’re lucky I was even able to save you.
After I treated my father this morning with my shadowlight—exhausting, by the way—and after using vaelshad—which uses more magic the greater the distance—and after flying gods know how far on the back of a barely stable shadowform, I didn’t have enough power left to fight that damned thing properly.
Then I had to use what little magic I could muster up to remove the venom from your system.
I’m honestly surprised I didn’t reach burnout with the amount of magic I had to use.
So forgive me for not being in the mood for your usual reckless, idiotic, death-welcoming behavior!
” she yells, her voice rising with each word.
I blink. “I didn’t realize you were ever in the mood for it.”
She glares at me.
“Right,” I mutter. “Bad timing. Got it.” I lean back, wincing. “You should sit down. Catch your breath.”
“I’m fine,” she says, rubbing her temples.
“You’re clearly not,” I say. “You’re pacing like you want to tear your own hair out. Just sit. Breath. Calm down . ”
She slowly turns to me, eyes blazing. “Did you just tell me to calm down?”
My stomach drops. “I—”
“I risked my magic, my position, and my life for you,” she says, stalking toward me with narrowed eyes. “And you think I need to calm down ?”
I scramble to sit a little straighter, but the pain in my ribs makes me suck in a sharp breath. “Alright, alright. You’re right. That was…poorly phrased.”
“Poorly phrased?” she repeats, voice rising. “You are—”
She stops and exhales hard, like she is trying to rein her anger back in. Her jaw clenches, and her shoulders sag under an invisible weight.
“Why?” I ask softly. “Why did you…?”
She looks away.
“I don’t understand,” I go on. “These trials are supposed to be dangerous. So why does it matter to you if I get hurt? Or even die?”
She doesn’t answer. Doesn’t move.
The moonlight hits her eyes just right, and for the briefest moment, I see something crack in them.
Not rage. Not irritation. Not hate . Something raw.
I swallow, unsure of what to do with it. With her. With the fact that she had come for me.
────────────? ? ? ? ?────────────
Serenya
The question hangs in the air between us. I stare at him. This infuriating, reckless, idiot of a man, soaked in swamp water and blood and half a breath from death, and somehow still managing to look at me like I’m being unreasonable.
Gods, I hate this.
“I don’t know,” I snap, crossing my arms.
It comes out sharper than I intended. Maybe that’s good, though. Maybe sharpness will cut through the tangled mess of whatever this is.
“I don’t know why it matters. It's just…I—” I make a frustrated sound and start pacing again, the hem of my soaked dress catching in the roots because I hadn’t taken the time to change before I rushed here.
“I’ve known you for what? Two weeks? In that time, you’ve insulted me, ignored my instructions, and have nearly gotten yourself killed not once, but twice!”
I stop and spin toward him.
“And for some godsdamned reason, when my shadows warned me something was wrong, I didn’t hesitate. I didn't even think. I just ran for you. Like a fool. You do not get to sit there and ask me why it matters . Like I’m just supposed to know . ”
His brows draw together, but he doesn’t speak.
“And if you say one more word,” I add, “especially if it’s something charming or noble or vaguely irritating, I will throw that empty waterskin at your head.”
He blinks. “That waterskin is enchanted.”
“I know . It’ll hit harder.”
Koen gives a weak laugh, and for some reason, that only makes me angrier.
“Why are you laughing?” I demand.
“Because,” he says, his voice raspy from whatever had hit his lungs earlier, “you saved my life, and now you’re threatening to knock me out again with a canteen.”
“You’re impossible,” I mutter, dragging my hands down my face. “You are actually impossible, Koen Moriver.”
“I didn’t ask you to come.”
“ I know you didn’t! ” I shout. “That’s the entire problem!”
My voice echoes through the trees, bouncing off ruined stone. I can feel my magic shifting in my veins again, shadows coiling along my skin, wanting to rise, to go to him, but I push it down.
Silence stretches between us.
He looks at me carefully, dark hair soaked and clinging to his brow, eyes darker now under the bruises.
“You didn’t have to,” he says softly.
“I know,” I whisper.
I hate how small my voice sounds. He’s right. I had chosen to come for him. Chosen to risk my safety for someone I claim not to like. Someone I didn’t want to like. Someone I shouldn’t like.
Now, here we are. In this swamp. With a mawless still lurking. And the only thing that makes less sense than any of it is him .
I turn away again, arms crossed, trying to calm the storm raging in my chest.
After a long pause, he says, “For what it’s worth, Serenya…thank you.”
My nails dig into my palms. Gods , help me. I wish he hadn’t said that.
────────────? ? ? ? ?────────────
The sun had dipped behind thick clouds hours ago, leaving this damned, cursed swamp in dusky twilight. The mist slithers along the water’s surface, coiling around gnarled trees and half sunken ruins.
I scan our surroundings as I wade through oddly warm, ankle-deep water behind Koen.
Far off, in the distance, a palace looms like a forgotten, ethereal fortress.
It towers above the murky waters with its gothic spires reaching into a misty sky, glowing faintly.
It feels both majestic and haunting, shrouded in eerie silence.
The whole scene is a mix of awe and dread.
I can feel it calling to me—beckoning me to uncover its hidden secrets.
I shake my head, clearing those thoughts, and turn my attention to Koen.
“Are we going anywhere specific, or is this the part where we wander until something else tries to kill you?”
He glances back over his shoulder, and even in the low light, I catch the spark of amusement in his eyes. “I’m honored by your concern, Your Highness.”
I narrow my eyes. “It’s not concern . I’m just trying to decide if I need to tie you to a tree so you stop attracting death.”
“You know,” he says, ducking beneath a vine-covered branch, “you keep threatening me with violence, but I’m not entirely convinced you don’t enjoy saving my life.”
I step around a root that looks a little too much like a submerged ribcage and mutter, “Don’t flatter yourself.”
A half-collapsed stone structure rises ahead, half-buried in the water and overgrown with thorny vines. Koen stops in front of it and turns to me.
“This’ll work,” he says. “Dry enough inside. Crumbling, but stable.”
I raise an eyebrow. “How do you know it’s stable?”
“I don’t,” he says with a grin. “But I’d rather take my chances with a ceiling than another water demon with a taste for my face.”
I snort, then immediately regret it when his grin widens.
Stars above, that grin.
We duck into the ruin, finding a corner mostly protected from the elements.
Koen sinks down onto a mossy stone, wincing as he touches a gash on his ribs, where his shirt is darkened with dried blood.
I sigh, reaching for his shirt. “Let me see it.”
He gives me a smug look. “You just can’t keep your hands off me.”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, your near-death aesthetic is just so compelling.”
Still, my fingers tremble slightly as I kneel beside him and peel his shirt away from the wound. It isn’t as deep as I had feared, but it is angry and raw.
My magic stirs at the sight of it.
I press a hand lightly to his ribs. “This may sting.”
“Oh, good,” he says. “I love a bit of pain with my flirting.”
“Would you shut up? ”
The dark glow of my shadowlight illuminates my palm. The warm magic pulses as it sinks into his skin. Around us, the darkness moves too. Whispers of shadow flow toward Koen. I freeze as tendrils of smoke-like shadow twist around his shoulders and arms. Gentle, almost eager.
“Stop doing that,” I say, voice low and sharp. “Back. Now .”
The shadows hesitate, then reluctantly slither back. However, this time, instead of coming back to me, they melt into the corners like they are pouting. The light in my palm flickers as my control wavers.
I don’t look at Koen’s face. Don’t want to see what is written there.
My heart is pounding. Several times now, my shadows have gone to him. They haven’t done that to anyone since… No . I shove the thought down. This is not about Kallan. This is now . This is Koen .
I finish the healing in silence, and when I pull my hand away, the wound is gone, but my breath is uneven.
He shifts beside me. “You alright?”
“I’m fine,” I say quickly. He is too close.
“Are your shadows always like that?” he asks with a bemused grin, clearly enjoying my discomfort.
“No,” I mutter, standing quickly. “They’ve just been misbehaving lately.”
He quirks a brow. “Seemed pretty fond of me.”
“They’re not. Shadows don’t get fond. They’re just…curious...or confused.”
“Are you talking about your shadows,” he says, rising slowly to his feet, “or you?”
I stiffen. “Don’t.”
He raises both hands. “Just asking.”
“You’re always asking ,” I snap . “Asking and smirking and poking and—”
He steps toward me. Just one step. Not touching, but it’s enough.
My back hits the cold stone wall of the ruin behind me. Koen doesn’t move closer, not yet, but he looks at me in that infuriating, quiet way. Like he is studying me. As if he knows exactly what I will say next and is just waiting for me to say it.
“Something wrong?” he asks in a soft voice, tilting his head. “You look…distracted.”
I open my mouth to fire back, but he takes another step.
The playful glint in his eyes should warn me. So should the way his expression shifts from amused to unreadable, the closer he comes.
But I don’t move. Not even when he leans in, crowding my space with quiet, maddening confidence, and my breath catches.
“You’ve been scowling at me since day one, little shadow,” he says in a low voice, glancing at my lips for a brief moment before returning his gaze to mine. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to look flustered.”
“I’m not flustered,” I say quickly, though the heat in my cheeks betrays me.
He leans just a fraction closer, his mouth at my ear now, and he whispers, “Sure you’re not.”
Satisfied, smug, and smirking , he pulls away and sits on the floor by a broken bench like he didn’t just completely rattle me.
I stand frozen for a heartbeat longer than I’d like.
“Smug bastard.”
His laugh echoes off the stone walls, low and warm and entirely too pleased with himself.
Lying his back against the floor, he folds his hands behind his head with the faintest smirk still curving his lips.
I hate that smirk...Well, mostly.
I lie awake long after he goes quiet, the shadows keeping their distance for once. Sleep doesn’t come. Not with his voice echoing in my ears, or the memory of his breath on my skin. Especially not with the way my heart had tripped at his words.
I was not flustered. I just miscalculated.
That was all...right?