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“Your town disrespects you,” he replied. “You should not tolerate it.”

Ruby shook her head with a dry laugh. “Even before my magic showed, I was different. Too quiet, too shy. Then I discovered my magic and started my witch training, and they said I was putting on airs. I just wish…”

She sighed bitterly. “I wish I didn’t want them to like me so much. I still want it, even after everything. I used to pray to Paimon for it.”

It sounded like a ridiculous thing to pray for. Then again, Slate had never wished for anyone to like him. Solitude had been enough for him. It would be enough again after she left.

“I would’ve given anything,” she said quietly. Then she straightened, her chin lifting into the defiance he was growing stupidly fond of. “Anyway, however much they dislike me now, I expect it will only getworsenow that they’ve seen that. They might force me out of town.”

Slate growled. “Let them try.”

“And what, you’ll eat them? That will only get me feared throughout the mortal realm. The Bygone’s servant, indeed.” She rubbed her eyes, which were dangerously close to tears, and then gave him a tight smile.

“Come on,” she said. “You said you smelled the trail here?”

She started to turn away. Slate grabbed her arm, forcing her back. He was hot with fury, his shadows lashing the stale air around him.

“You are kind and selfless,” he growled. “You bound yourself to me even when you thought it meant your death. They shouldworshipyou for it.”

Ruby gaped. She was blushing, the red flush running down her neck, and Slate thought about wrapping his tongue around it.

“I—” Ruby started. She ran a hand through her long hair, grimacing when she noticed the mud remaining from cleaning the ward. “Dammit. Why would demons steal a dog spirit? Is that something they do?”

“Not typically,” Slate said. “They cannot eat him. It must be to spite me.”

He cursed himself silently. First, he was not aware of souls withering in his realm until they turned into shades, and now he was letting innocent dog spirits get stolen.

“To spite you,” Ruby repeated. “Why?”

He raised his head and sniffed. Bark, insects, dirt that was somehow less appealing than the dirt in his realm. And underneath it, the acrid stench of shade demons.

“I will follow their trail,” he said. “You stay here.”

Ruby spluttered indignantly and shoved in front of him. “What for? I might not be able to snatch demons out of midair, but Iama witch.AndI’m armed.And?—”

Slate bent down, trying to use his height to menace her for the first time in days. Or possibly weeks. Time was malleable in his void.

“And what?” he demanded.

He expected her to wilt. To apologize, however grudgingly.

Instead, she looked him straight in the eye, his darkness reflecting onto her.

“And I’m with you,” she reminded him. “You won’t let me get hurt.”

A shocked growl rumbled through his chest. She had been practically cowering from him in those early days. Now she didn’t even flinch. Her cheeks were bright, her face set in stunned disbelief like even she was amazed by her own nerve.

Slate stared at her, his growl dying. She was less than half his height. Bones that snapped like toothpicks. Skin that parted like paper. And she was glaring at him like she would fight him right here with only her weak mortal magic and the knife he conjured for her.

Slate wanted to kiss her so badly it ached.

“Fine,” He snapped. “But I don’t want any dawdling.”

With that, he swept her into his arms and started after the trail.

Fourteen

Ruby watched the trees rush past and realized something shocking: she missed the shadows.