Page 4

Chapter 1

IRIS

Twenty-Seven Years Later

The forest breeds secrets.

The leaves whisper while brooks babble. Vines slither like serpents across an earthen floor. Roots curl, the bark groans. And yet, there is no translation. No cipher to be found—a secret language hidden within the canopy. Inscribed on each flower petal, meticulous scrawl in sweeps of color.

In turn, the forest keeps secrets.

Hides them beneath beds of moss. In between swaths of green.

So I screamed.

I released every inexplicable, shattered fragment of my soul. Every reprehensible secret spilled into the leaves.

I cried out every veiled fabrication of each persona. I shattered the cage within, the birds screeching for sanity as they took flight. I composed a howling symphony of terror , inhibition , and longing.

I bellowed until my lungs ran thin. I bayed with shredded vocal cords .

I screamed and screamed and ?—

A two-toned whistle split the air.

Darkness. Surrounding, enveloping, pushing?—

In . One. Out . One. In. Two. Out . Two.

Soft earth.

Dry. Warm. Here.

I rolled each speck of dirt between my fingers, focused on how it slipped beneath my nails.

One more breath.

Sweat clung to every inch of my skin as I pulled my fingers from the deep gouge marks, straining for the remnants of the sound on the wind.

Had it been the nightmare? Or was she?—

A warm, wet nose rammed into my cheek, knocking me back against the rough bark.

“Flora!”

“ Get up! Get up! Get up! ” The fawn squealed, stomping through the small space.

I scrambled for my satchel, slinging it over my shoulder before she shattered any of the glass bottles with her hooves. Holding it in place with one hand, I hauled myself forward, arm braced on the inside of the hollowed-out tree. My elbow scraped along the gouge marks lining the bark, narrowly avoiding a long forgotten empty bottle of wine.

Rays of morning sun peeked through the canopy of the forest as I crawled back into the clearing.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“ Zinnia won’t be very happy with you, Iris, ” Flora huffed, jumping in front of me. The pure obstinance in the tilt of her head soothed the lingering jolt of my heart against my ribs.

“You promised to wake me before the sun rose.”

“ And you promised we weren’t coming out this far yesterday, ” Flora glared, a huff escaping her snout.

I bit my tongue, lack of sleep wearing heavy on my patience. I wasn’t angry. Not with her, at least.

My bones ached in protest as I stood, rolling my neck from side to side and breathing in the scent of spring. The forest was awash with color, flowers dipped in vibrant pastels painted the entire clearing in shades of pink and purple.

I should be moving—should be running, really—but my legs were likely to give out if I tortured them with unthinkable exertion this morning. Besides, this time of year, when the forest unfurled into full bloom, was worth lingering.

“My mother will be fine.” I mustered as much conviction as possible, running a hand over Flora’s speckled brown fur. No need to make her feel guilty over the argument I’d have with Zinnia later.

She nudged my hand with her snout, directing it down her back again.

Incessantly feisty, this fawn. Stubborn and nosy, with zero regard for personal space. Above all else, though, she was a damn good friend.

One of my only friends.

I didn’t know what that said about me at twenty-seven years, but I wasn’t falling down that rabbit hole this morning.

Totally, completely normal.

“I’m not supposed to come out this far. Ever,” I added, kneeling beside her.

Damp soil seeped through my sage-colored skirt as I ran my fingers over the bandage covering her Flora’s leg. I unwrapped the linen, examining the deep red gash running from mid-leg to her hoof. I suppressed a frown. The edges gaped, still refusing to close.

“ You don’t have time ,” she whimpered.

“I’ll be fine.”

Urgency was futile at this point anyhow.

And, t echnically, I was still in the Marshire Wilds. For today at least. The border out of the division of Vaelithe that was safe to wander remained well on the other side of the lake. Though, the justification wouldn’t matter .

Mother had rules. Strict? Yes. But fair.

Who I was— what I was—placed us at constant risk. For detection, for exploitation, for things I couldn’t allow myself think about for too long.

Zinnia had risked more than just her life taking me in eighteen years ago. And, blood be damned, she was the closest thing I’d ever had to mother.

Still...

Vigilance, Iris.

I cleaned my hands, inspecting for any remaining dirt underneath my nails before slathering the green salve across Flora’s wound. The yellow tinge in the muscle receded as I worked it in, but the skin still refused to stitch back over.

Sixteen? No, this had to be well over twenty.

I’d lost count of remedies I’d made to try and treat the underlying infection. Salve after salve kept it from worsening, but the infection seeped back in at the slightest provocation. It would take time to see if this one would hold. Time I wasn’t sure we had, by the looks of the pale striations across the muscle belly.

This one needed to work.

Expedited healing was a gift from The Triad which, although bestowed upon us Ethera, had not been extended to common animals. Only mythical creatures with their own magic, like the Sygens of Reilune, had any sort of resilience matching the people of Felviran. Even our own Medikai magic was ineffective for common creatures.

It was a shame, a disgrace really, that their lives had been deemed so much less important than ours.

Another grievance I had with the Goddesses.

“ It’s a silly rule ,” Flora grumbled as I finished wrapping a clean bandage, tucking the loose end into the cloth layers.

I pushed to stand, wiping the dirt and leftover salve from my palms onto my skirt. “It’s a necessary rule.”

“I agree with the little gremlin.”

Not a nightmare after all, then .

“I don’t see how you can agree with her, Nadya, as only one of us understood what she said.” I didn’t bother hiding my grin.

Through a cloud of shadows, I made out the tall, muscular frame perched atop a low-hanging branch.

“The context of your response wasn’t difficult to decipher, Ris,” Nadya called, leaping soundlessly to the ground.

A soft laugh escaped beneath the cloth covering the lower half of her face. Her hood fell, exposing a handful of braids, similar to the ones scattered in my own hair, twisting up her crown and gathering with the rest of her raven strands into a sleek ponytail. The dark kohl surrounding her bright teal eyes mimicked the shadows she now pulled back into herself, wisps of night dancing playfully around her limbs.

Flora huffed at the tendrils, jumping to the side anytime one got too close.

Nadya sheathed the ruby encrusted blade at her thigh, the fabric at her collarbone shifting to expose the shimmering opalescent pairing tattoo underneath. Several new swirls of ink covered the stretch of tan skin.

I swore there were more every time I saw her.

For as long as I’d known her, Nadya created art with her body. Moving, dressing, fighting. Presenting herself to the world in ways that would evoke precisely the response she sought.

Wonder. Awe. Desire. Fear.

The tapestry of tattoos was an extension of her artistry, each chosen with meticulous thought.

Except for her pairing mark, that was out of anyone’s control.

But they were Nadya, just as much as her shadows were. Beautiful and powerful and alluring.

I could acknowledge the irony, at least, in admiring her tattoos while wishing I could scrape my own from my skin.

“Does she ever stop talking?” Nadya asked with a glance at Flora, who was grumbling under her breath at the shadows. “She’s the only animal I’ve ever seen you with who prefers to ramble everyone’s ear off—regardless of the fact only you understand her.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. This was not a morning to get the two of them at it.

“ You don’t use the mental connection, Iris. Why should I? ” Flora huffed.

“Because if I talk to you out loud instead of using the mental connection,” I began, elaborating more than necessary so Nadya could follow, “other Ethera can understand what I’m saying to you.”

“So?”

“So, both you and Nadya are part of this conversation. If I speak aloud, you can both understand it.”

“ But she’s never here anymore. And you still do it .”

“And so do you, even though it’s more difficult for you.”

Except for Flora, most creatures I knew preferred communicating through the mental bond, the connection easier to maintain for them as opposed to how it was for me. Though, I suspected she just wanted to make sure everyone within hearing distance knew she had something to say.

Not that I blamed her.

Sometimes I dreamt of shouting nonsense into the abyss, if only to be heard for once.

The fawn ignored my explanation, stomping out of the clearing in the direction of the apothecary.

“Should we not be rushing back?” Nadya asked, raising a brow as we followed.

“No point now.” I gestured toward the sky.

A scolding awaited either way, and the only thing that could make that more unbearable would be running .

“Why were you out?”

I took care not to trip over the branches littering the forest floor, muscles screaming as I matched her long strides.

“Ran out of some ingredients while brewing late.”

Her stare seared like a brand on my skin, regardless of how pointedly I avoided her gaze.

“I needed air,” I added with a sigh.

Nadya didn’t press further, the admission was enough.

Painstaking honesty.

We could lie, and cheat, and steal. Be runaways and assassins and traitors. But we didn’t shy from each other. Ever. So Nadya didn’t ask questions when she found me in the forest at all hours. She understood why I was there.

I noted the almost imperceptible clench of Nadya’s hand every time she stepped on her right leg. “Do you need more?”

She gave a tight shake of her head, so I pressed a finger gently into her thigh.

Her responding wince was all the confirmation I needed.

“ Triad’s tits , Ris.”

“Nadya…”

My friend didn’t even look my way as she silently extended a gloved hand.

“Morning and night, down the entire leg,” I instructed, handing her a tin of thick, sticky balm. “This one is new.” I placed a vial next to the tin. “A drop or two whenever the muscles start to spasm. It should help.”

A jackalope skittered across our path, and something sounding suspiciously like ‘ late late late ’ flooded my mind.

Damn meddling forest.

“And the stretches,” I reminded her, ignoring the judgmental croak of a frog lazing on a tree. I closed her fingers over the items and gave them a brief squeeze before letting go.

“I know,” she conceded with a sigh, tucking the items into her cloak. “Thank you.”

At one point, after the thirteenth failed balm, I’d worried Nadya’s case would become an endless slew of unsuccessful experiments. Chronic ailments weren’t typical for Ethera, especially after ascending into our full essence and lifespan at twenty-five. But Nadya’s hip joint had already begun deteriorating from her grueling training, and the break to her femur occurred mere moments before her ascent.

In that half-heartbeat of time, the two injuries became permanent.

It took nearly a year to get the right mix, but combined with joint wrapping, the regimen helped. I still searched for something to take her pain away completely.

Flora stopped several paces ahead, her anger seeming to dissipate as she fell back into a trot between us.

“ Ask the Shadowmancer where my prince is, ” Flora sighed.

“The Shadowmancer has a name,” I said. “Nobody likes to be referred to only by their Goddess-blessing.”

I swore Flora rolled her large brown eyes at me.

“Nadya,” I translated for the fawn as we wove between two large trees, careful of the vines stretching between them, “Flora would like to know why you aren’t accompanied by Prince Ferrin.”

“ Aren’t you his bodyguard now? ” Flora asked hopefully, her voice taking on the dreamy softness it often did when she talked about Ferrin. “ I thought he’d have to come with you every time. ”

Admittedly, I was also slightly disappointed he hadn’t joined. The only consolation to Nadya’s decrease in visits when she moved to Reilune, had been her stories of Ferrin. A nameless ‘royal pain in the ass’ making her Volant training unbearable with his recklessness, turned into a Prince she’d become sworn to protect after being appointed to the royal guard.

She’d filled every conversation with complaints, but there’d always been an undertone of respect. A kindling of more than disdain grew with each story. Desperate to meet anyone outside the Goddess-forsaken wilds, I'd begged her to bring him along.

After what felt like a Divine eternity of convincing, I’d found them both beside our hollowed-out tree. Though she’d never admit it, Nadya had been a fiercely loyal friend to Ferrin long before she’d sworn service to Reilune. And when she trusted him enough to bring him there, Ferrin became just as integral to my life as she was.

I relayed Flora’s question to Nadya.

“I’m one of his personal guards. He isn’t shackled to me,” Nadya remarked.

I suppressed a grin, imagining the dirty joke Ferrin would be devastated he missed the opportunity for.

“And he still needs my other talents,” she added in a low voice. “He doesn’t trust anyone else to handle the shit he deals with.”

I could almost hear the second innuendo.

Goddesses, I missed them.

“ Ooooh, she means the spying. And the knives. And the blood. ”

“Yes,” I yielded, not repeating Flora’s words. “She means that aside from being Ferrin’s personal guard, she is also his Head of Intelligence.”

Nadya laughed. “That title is legitimate only to him. But I wouldn’t want to work for the King of Reilune anyway. It’s bad enough being part of the guard technically means I report to the wretched man.”

“Even as a personal guard?” I asked.

“On paper. But you know I’ve never really worked for anyone but Ferrin. He’s just besotted with bestowing new titles.”

“Not without merit.” Nadya’s titles didn’t even begin to encompass everything she did for the prince.

Not to mention, if he had the choice, she would be his only guard.

She flipped her long onyx strands over her shoulder. “Not much has changed. Head of intelligence let him send me on missions with less questions. Personal guard now gives formality to his incessance that I’m always assigned to him. Keeps the other guards from being quite as vocal about their distaste.”

“I thought that would’ve stopped after the last one who spouted shit ended up with his severed hands displayed in Ferrin’s library.”

“Somewhat.” She shrugged, then caught my attention with a sidelong glance. “I almost didn’t accept.”

I studied her carefully, ducking as a blue swallow darted straight at my head.

“I wouldn’t have, if it had meant I always remained at his side,” she admitted. “I won’t give up what I’m good at just so some assholes who’s respect I’ll never earn scoff less when I do my job.”

Pride bubbled in my chest. Nadya Rhevan wasn’t just good—she was unmatched. Especially by those men.

Where I had a talent for becoming unknown, Nadya had a talent for finding lost things.

“ So you’ll only work for Prince Ferrin? ” Flora asked.

“Only Ferrin.”

“Which story did you feed him, then?” I mused. “I suspect he would’ve insisted on coming if he knew you were here.”

Thankfully, Ferrin’s propensity for gallivanting in disguise through the outer realms meant I often got to steal time with both of them.

“I told him I was scouting the Kacidon border.”

“It is a rare day indeed when you both willingly travel to Kacidon and lie to Ferrin.”

Nadya could spin tales that made even the most skeptical free of doubt, but lying to the prince was a line she seldom crossed.

“I did scout the Kacidon border.” She arched a brow. “I just didn’t tell him I was scouting it for intel to give to you .”

A genuine smile spread across my face, any lingering worry melting away. “Oh, of course. You’re right—that is an entirely truthful account of your whereabouts. How ever did you learn such honesty , my dear friend?”

She blew out a sigh that had long since been solely reserved for her irritation with the prince. “Ferrin has too much going on right now and he’s far too meddlesome. You know he would have insisted on joining.”

It was one of his best traits.

I chuckled. “I would have enjoyed seeing you both.”

Her brow furrowed, a brief reminder of her younger self. I knew she had debated bringing him along. The decision couldn’t have been made lightly.

“So, you came to report intel?”

“Of course.” She shot me a pointed look. “And for support. You haven’t left the Wilds in years. A trip outside of it, let alone to another realm? That’s big.”

I ignored the ache blooming in my chest. Longing for travel after everything Zinnia had done…

Soon , I reminded myself. Soon , we could change it all. It would be over.

As we neared the edge of the forest, the Apothecary’s outline visible through the last dense copse of trees, Nadya filled me in on her findings. She hadn’t gleaned much beyond what she’d already shared—no murmurs of rebellion, no whispers of treason. Which left us with little to go on, save for a realm with piss-poor relations with the others and a royal family despised by most of Altaerra.

Myself included.

“I’m surprised Zinnia is letting you accompany her,” Nadya barely concealed an eye roll. Flora stopped beside us, uncharacteristically quiet.

“From my understanding, she didn’t have a choice. Something happened in Kacidon before we settled here. She won’t reveal much, but whatever it was, she owes them a life debt.”

The air deadened as Nadya froze, the forest itself seeming to hush.

Even if I hadn’t caught the clench of her right fist, I knew this would split old scars wide open.

Deep, painful wounds from being coerced into a bond she could never have understood. From a split second that lost her everything and morphed her life from a normal childhood to one of a Shade.

My friend knew too much of life debts.

The pact was simple: one party offered a favor, usually lifesaving, and in return, the other owed a debt. One sentence, a verbal agreement, was all it took for the magic to snap in to place and bind the participants within the contract. That favor hung in the air, often unspoken, left to be claimed at the creator's whim.

Once demanded, there were only two choices. Compliance, or death.

The thin line forming between Nadya’s eyebrows had kept me from bringing up the topic earlier. But we didn’t pity each other. We vowed to share what we knew, even when it cut deep.

“A bound life debt.”

One allowing the creator partial access to Zinnia’s magic until fulfillment.

There was no running from a bound debt, no loopholes to be found within the Threading magic that leashed fragments of your magic to another.

If the creator called, you appeared.

Nadya blinked. “What in all the realms could have convinced her to make a bound life debt?”

“She won’t say. But Kacidon requested her apprentice accompany her. She’s furious, fought it tooth and nail, but the pact left her little choice. She likely would’ve tried to pass off some villager as me, had the Kacidon emissary not shown up in person.”

Nadya pulled me into a crushing hug. “Goddesses, be safe.”

I relaxed into her arms, the familiar scent of starflower and sandalwood grounding me.

“You know how I feel about Zinnia’s… restrictions . But even I’m uneasy about this.”

I shook my head. “So cynical. I fear she’s rubbing off on you.”

Nadya didn’t bother concealing her disgust as she reached one hand behind my head, gently pulling out the pin in my hair.

The thin set of her lips told me she was holding her tongue out of respect for my relationship with my mother. I unbraided the small braids from the night before, shaking my hair loose to cover my back. Nadya’s jaw worked, but even she couldn’t argue with that rule.

“Keep Aconite with you at all times.”

I pulled aside my dress, showing her the dagger sheathed at my thigh.

A poisonous flower you are, Iris Virlana. Her words from what seemed like a lifetime ago echoed in the shadows pulsing around us.

“Always.” “And this as well.” She pulled a worn black book from under her cloak, handing it over. “Maybe the Kacidonian royals will keel over at your salacious reading habits.”

“Oh!” I exclaimed, remembering the novel I’d stashed in my own bag. I rifled through the bag, knocking aside heaps of ingredients. Blowing at the spine, I dusted off some of the unidentifiable substances gracing the cover. “I found this one in Gideon’s stash. I haven’t finished yet, but I don’t think it will disappoint.”

“I really need to know where he finds these,” she snorted.

We looked at each other for a long moment, hands resting on the book clutched to her chest.

“Eyes on the sky,” she whispered, reaching out to squeeze my wrist.

“Eyes on the sky,” I echoed.

With a nod, she pulled up her hood, wreathed herself in shadows, and disappeared into the trees with a two-toned whistle.

When Flora and I reached the back fence of the apothecary, she nuzzled against my leg and trotted off without even a hint of emotion coursing through the bridge between our minds.

Though, I swore caught a muffled sniffle.

I eased the weathered gate open, careful to stifle its telltale creak.

The purple sky behind me continued to lighten as I studied my reflection in the rusted mirror beside the back door. Tightening the vest I fished from my bag, I turned to check my back over a freckled shoulder.

Five Hells, why did the damn thing have to glow ?

Tugging at the blouse underneath, I made sure not a glimpse of gold peeked through the layers of fabric. I was too tired to give Zinnia any more reasons to lecture. Crimson waves cascaded down to my waist—one final shield veiling the constant threat to our safety. The one thing that could unravel everything.

The gilded sun inked beneath the base of my neck

The mark of my damnation.

The brand that haunted us all.

Sunchosen .