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One moment, Eryx is normal with his messy brown hair and brown eyes. And in the next, he changes.

Horns sprout from his head, his canines lengthen, his eyes glow a bright amber. A tail snakes out from a hole in his trousers, thin and long save the triangle of skin at the end.

“Eryx, no!” I shout, just as he launches himself at the Shadow King. Who cannot be killed. And it doesn’t escape me that he didn’t change until I was in the room. When he thoughtIwas threatened. Stupid, foolish boy.

Kallias is dripping with shadows. They run over his skin and float above him, undulating to their own rhythm.

Eryx’s first punch goes right through Kallias, as though the king literally were made of shadow. He connects with nothing, and nearly collapses from the lack of resistance.

Then Kallias strikes. He slams a fist into Eryx’s exposed lower back, and Eryx roars as he finds his footing again.

Dyson and Argus run for me. “You need to leave,” the latter says.

“No, you two need to leave.”

Dyson and Argus each grab one of my arms, hoisting me clear into the air.

“Put me down immediately!” I scream at the two of them.

At the sound of my voice, Eryx turns, putting those wolflike eyes on his friends. He advances a step to them, tohurtthem, but Kallias lands another blow, this time sweeping Eryx’s legs out from under him.

Argus and Dyson drop me at once, as we all realize that messing with me is the surest way to get Eryx killed.

As Eryx stands quicker than my eyes can follow, I say, “Stop. Kallias, I made a mistake. Please stop. I’ve changed my mind. I need you to call this whole thing off.”

“It’s a bit late for that,” the king answers as Eryx tries to slam into his gut. His fingers cleave through the middle of the king, rippling shadows, but nothing else. Again. When Kallias goes for yet another punch, Eryx catches his closed fist.

Catches it.

Because it’s not incorporeal. No, Kallias has to make parts of himself physical in order to strike Eryx, and Eryx is so much faster.

Bones crunch beneath Eryx’s hands as he tightens his hold on Kallias. The king winces, then turns his hand to shadow once more. It doesn’t take much time for the bones to reset themselves in the correct order. His shadows heal him just as quickly as Eryx’s do him.

Kallias smiles. “This is the most fair fight I’ve ever been in.”

But Eryx is beyond words. As he looks at Kallias, staring at those shadows he cannot make contact with, I watch in horror as Eryx reaches for that serrated dagger he keeps on himself at all times and rakes it over his own left palm, sending shadows spilling forth from the wound. With the palm extended, he reaches out.

Andtouchesthe king.

Shadow to shadow. It doesn’t matter that Kallias should be incorporeal. Eryx’s shadows are the exact same as the king’s. And he shoves Kallias onto the ground. Then he grips his throat.

Shit, shit, shit.

Kallias draws his rapier and rakes it against Eryx’s arm, sending more shadows flying. Eryx flinches backward from the pain of it, but keeps the dagger in hand.

“Eryx, stop!” I cry out. “Please, you need to listen to me. I’m fine. See. Come here. Come to me. I’m fine!”

But he doesn’t even turn his head in my direction. His entire being is focused on the king. On my sister’s husband, who unwittingly put himself in danger. If Eryx found a way to touch him when he’s incorporeal, then he very muchcandie, even with Alessandra almost a mile away from the manor.

Sparks fly as rapier and dagger meet and dance. Eryx is faster, but he’s limited to where he can strike Kallias with his own shadows. His own wounds. Gods, it must be painful.

Dyson and Argus stand helplessly beside me. Honestly, whatever did they possibly think they could do when Eryx was like this? He can’t be stopped. No mortal man is a match for him. How could they have deluded themselves into thinking they could stop the beast from getting what he wants?

Eryx takes a slice to his side, and shadows ripple from the wound. He then uses that same side to barrel into Kallias, sending him to theground once more. Eryx injures his own palm again so he can make contact with the king.

Kallias rolls over, despite having the breath knocked from him.

“Call him off, Chrysantha,” the king says when he can draw breath into his lungs once more. “I will stop if he does.”