Page 225
Story: Dawnbringer
He always found her. But she couldneverfind him.
And now she couldn’t even scry? Couldn’t even reach for the one thing that gave her an edge?
Glass. Fire. Swallow.
Skye was probably installing the dreamspindle at that very moment. “Stupid, smug, self-righteous, motherfucking, overgrown pain-in-the-ass…” She poured another, sloshing half of it onto the bar. “Shadow-skulking, hero-complex—ugh,dumbass.” Another swallow. “Big. Damn. Idiot.” The words tangled up in her tongue now, slurring into, “Stupid. Beautiful. Bastard.” She scowled into her glass. “Hope you choke on your own concern, you absolute—mmph—prince of pricks.”
Seriously, she was in the middle of a gunfight, and he’d taken her only damn weapon! What was the plan there? Was he going to fight her nightmares for her now? Maybe wrestle the psychic parasite right out of her head?
She fumbled for the bottle. The world had gone soft around the edges. Almost there. Almost quiet. This fey body needed so much more liquor to reach this point—rock bottom.
She shouldn’t be here. Not just the bar—this entire Shards-damned life. Magic had ripped her out of her own story and shoved her into someone else’s mess. Now it was all just survival. Just bracing for whatever fresh hell came next.
Every day, she waited for it—the next piece to slip. How many more secrets were tucked away in these bones, waiting to rewrite her all over again?
She tried to pour another, but the bottle was dry—just like her luck.
She shouldn’t be here.
And then that pesky little voice, yet another hunter chasing her—one she hadn’t heard this loud since she’d bolted from the townhouse, too scared and lost to think straight, back when she’d had no idea what else to do…
Maybe it would be easier if she wasn’t.
Maybe… everyone would be better off.
Taly curled in on herself, knees bumping the bar, arms hugging her middle. She gritted her teeth, biting down on the whimper.
She wished Skye was here… and then hated herself for it.
Yes, there’d be a lecture. He’d grind his teeth and shoot her those infuriating looks. But he’d also be the one holding her hair back when she inevitably ended up over a toilet. He’d be pissed the whole time, muttering about her terrible choices. And he’d still do it. Because that’s who he was. Predictable. Unshakable.
Hers, even when she didn’t deserve it.
And Shards, wasn’t that the worst part?
Apparently, it wasn’t—a point the Universe wished to drive home.
A ripple passed through the room. Not a hush—just a shift. Voices dipped. Bodies near the door edged back, space opening where none had been.
Taly didn’t turn. She didn’t need to. In the mirror behind the bar, polished black armor caught the light. Red capes draped like fresh-spilled blood. And their faces—if you could call them that…
Shadows churned where a face should’ve been, thick and restless, shifting like storm clouds before a breaking sky. No eyes, no mouth—just a writhing abyss of black vapor, twisting and flickering like sentient smoke.
The Dawn Court claimed the masks were for protection—to safeguard their members from the weight of the acts they were forced to commit in the name of duty. A kindness, they called it. A mercy for those who served.
It was bullshit, of course. Cowards. That’s what they were. Too afraid to look their victims in the eye, to carry the burden of the suffering they caused.
Somewhere beneath the liquor, deep in the animal part of her brain, alarm bells started screaming. Taly kept her head down, a breeze ghosting across the back of her neck as their cloaks whispered past.
Ivain loathed the Sanctorum—hated even more that they were on his island. But as long as they stayed within the bounds of decency, his hands were tied. By law, by honor, he had no choice but to shelter them.
The Sanctifiers took a table in the far corner.
The people around it suddenly found elsewhere to be, and Taly followed their lead. This bar was suddenly feeling a little crowded. She reached into her coat, fingers brushing against the grain bags she’d tucked away earlier. One. Two. That should cover the tab.
As she pulled them free—
THUD.
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