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“Thank you.”

I wrapped my arms around myself, watching as he vanished behind the bathroom door, frightened that I trusted him more than anyone. He knew my every weakness because I had shown them where they were. I had taught him how to hurt me the most, and still, he made me feel safe.

If only I was capable of the love he deserved.

Chapter four

His Shadow

Zayne

I set the water to cold and stepped into the shower before I could change my mind. It consumed all my self-control to step away from Ayla, and I didn’t think I could do it a second time.

The water streamed down my chest as I swallowed my longing to return to the bedroom, press her against the mattress, and show her everything that she meant to me.

She’d saved my life.

I owed her everything.

Except no matter how cold the water ran, I couldn’t escape my desire—a desire for more than her body. The ache in my chest grew heavier with each moment she refused to acknowledge what was between us. And still, beyond the tether, I craved her heart.

A heart she would be slow to give.

The last time she’d trusted a man, he’d tried to kill her. I couldn’t blame her for needing time—especially when I was the idiot who branded her soon after.

I had to be patient.

Sighing, I turned off the water, grabbed a towel, and dried off. When I stepped onto the tile floor, I found myself staring at an oversized mirror, too foggy to use. Not that it mattered. I barely recognized who I’d become.

Once, I had been a shadow to my sister. Her spare and protector, I served her because I had nothing to claim of my own. Raised in Karenia, I’d been a shadow prince living in a kingdom of light.

Now I was a necromancer, wielder of death and champion of the realm beyond. Most importantly, I was tethered to Ayla.

Maybe I didn’t understand the tether any better than her, but I didn’t fear it. No, I treasured it.

Ayla had saved me long before she’d lifted me from the depths of death. She’d given me a reason to live beyond my family, showing me life could have new meaning.

I’d been attracted to her since we met. I’d been attached to her since we dared to take the throne, and I’d bonded with her as we repaired the stronghold. And now that our tether was beyond Gloom, I’d grown attached, obsessive even.

She was always in my head, and still, I craved more.

The way her laughter filled a room or the way a smile flittered upon her lips when she teased me. I needed her nearby. Always. And even when she needed space, the evidence that she was so comfortable with me that she could admit her fears only stoked the flame of my devotion.

I coveted her beyond all else.

And as the foggy mirror cleared, I met my reflection and wondered who, exactly, that made me.

Ayla stilled as I entered the bedroom, her body sprawled across the bed, hair falling off its edge. Her hands were raised above her, fingers fluttering as she traced the beat of the music playing from her phonograph, already placed upon the dresser.

The song continued, lilting over the room.

“Feeling better?” I asked.

She rolled over onto her stomach and cupped her chin between her hands. Her gaze trailed over me, wandering from my still bare chest to the towel around my waist.

Smirking, she spun about, swinging her feet off the bed and facing the main door. There, hanging upon its back, was a gown, the fabric dark and rich, a perfect coal to her fire. “Iona sent this over. She seems to think it’ll be appropriate for tonight.”

I choked, realizing the high slit would nearly reach her hip. “You’ll look great.”