Page 28

“Lord of Shadows,” he breathed, horrified. He yanked and tugged uselessly as his face crumpled with pain. I threw myself into Corvus’s arms, putting my entire weight behind it. My stomach landed on his arm, and I would have flopped to the floor if he hadn’t grabbed me. It had the desired effect, he released the sex worker, but his wrist was crushed and he held his arm to his chest as he scampered away—as did every single living soul in the swap meet.

All that was missing was tumbleweed and the soundtrack clip.

“You know how to clear an area,” I muttered.

He didn’t comment or react to me, and his wings spread out behind him, the heavywhooshsending a nearby stand tumbling to the side. He lifted me higher in his arms until my butt was nestled in the crook of his arm. I grabbed the top of his curved ram horn to balance myself.

He didn’t react, so I took advantage and felt the rough, dipped surface. He slowed his wide stride, hesitating next to the pastry spread, and plucked up the one I’d been eyeing.

“What are you doing?” I hissed.

“You wanted this.” He held it up, flat on his palm, the tips of his claw curled upward. The stuffed sweet sitting in his palm and looking so innocent was at the opposite end of the spectrum to his monstrous hand.

I carefully took it, and he watched me expectantly.

It occurred to me that maybe my stomach wouldn’t be able to handle Novian food.

But I had nothing to lose, so I bit into it. Flavors exploded on my tongue. It was as if a cupcake and achurrohad a baby, but the texture was perfect and spongy and somehow crispy, too.

“It’s-so-good,” I mumbled, taking another bite.

He watched my mouth with intense focus. To the point that I wondered how he wasn’t tripping over the uneven terrain. I swiped my tongue across my lip, and he exhaled. I held the last bite toward his mouth.

“I do not eat.”

Right, he fed on souls. My stomach swirled with nerves. A few more long strides later and I mustered the courage to ask what I’d been wondering.

“How many sacrifices have you had?”

“I do not know.” His eyelids thinned, looking into the distance. “Too many to count.”

That sickness in my stomach turned up a notch. It wasn’t nerves, it was jealousy.

“Oh,” I said on an exhale.

He beat his wings, and the last bite of pastry slipped out of my fingers. I huddled closer to him, grabbing onto his horn for dear life. He jostled me as he took off into the air and cradled me against him like I was a child.

I squinted against the wind. Novareth was coming, and I wouldn’t have a timeline toward my end. I wasn’t sure if that was worse.

Before my death, I’d go to his cells to see if there was anyone left to help; my little rebellion toward the hand fate dealt me.

I just had to wait until he fell asleep again.

He’d been flyingfor a while when a reflection caught the light, and I squinted at the spot a few yards ahead. I pointed at it insistently.

“What’s that?” People-shaped figures surrounded a huge statue with wings. “Are those people dressed in black robes?”

Corvus didn’t answer.

I jerked my elbow back, and he growled, nipping my ear.

“That hurt,” I hissed. “Fine, if you don’t take me, I’ll go while you’re distracted or when you’re in one of those deep sleeps I can’t wake you from.”

He growled and angled as he descended, touching down with a loud thump. The stone statue washim.

The people surrounding it turned at the noise of his landing. Gasps echoed across the clearing, and as if snipping a stringholding them upright, they dropped to their knees. There had to be close to thirty people.

“Lord,” a woman moaned and bowed. “Bless us with your presence.”