Page 35 of Beasts of Shadows #1

It’s Not power. Not conquest. Not gods bowing or students crawling or bloodied crowns on his head, like I would expect.

Just… himself.

Laughing.

Barefoot in grass. Human. Unburdened.

Free.

The firelight dances over his face. And something in it cracks.

Only for a second—but it’s enough.

He shuts the mirror with a snap.

“Pathetic,” he mutters, but it doesn’t sound like he means me. Or even the mirror.

It sounds like he means himself.

And I can’t breathe.

Because for the first time, I don’t feel afraid of what Nikolai might become.

I feel afraid of how much he wants not to.

Because wanting freedom means he sees the cage.

And wanting to be human means he envies me—not for my strength, not for my rank or status—but for the one thing I’ve always hated about myself here: that I bleed, that I fear, that I want and stumble and ache.

That I’m mortal.

Cat shifts beside me, sensing something’s changed. But I don’t move.

I just stare through the ash-laced leaves, heart pounding hard enough to bruise.

Because I don’t know what scares me more—what I saw in my mirror.

Or what I just saw in his.

And what it says about both of us.

#

Cat inhales sharply beside me. “Two minutes.”

The plan’s already in motion. But my chest still tightens. I just need to distract him long enough to—.

No time left. No more watching. No more doubts.

We move.

Together, we break through the brush.

Kilronan rises immediately, grinning like he’s been expecting trouble. “Well, well. Look who came to carry out their end of the bargain.”

Cat flashes her dagger. “Don’t flatter yourself. We just came to watch you flounder.”

Nikolai’s head snaps up—and when his eyes land on me, something shifts.

Not surprise. Not resignation.

Satisfaction. Like he’s been spoiling for this. Like the waiting’s finally paid off.

His mouth twists, a slow, razor-sharp thing. “Changed your mind, did you?”

“I’m just here to finish what you started.”

He tilts his head, assessing. “Funny. It already feels like we have the victory.”

“You wouldn’t know what that feels like,” I counter, circling a few paces to the side. “You’ve never actually had to earn it.”

His mouth twitches, but not into a smile. “Still trying to scare me, Harper?”

“No.” I meet his eyes. Let the silence stretch.

My heartbeat’s too loud in my ears, but I keep my face calm. He doesn’t get to see how much this moment costs me.

“I know I don’t scare you,” I say, soft and slow. “I get under your skin because I have something you want—and you don’t even know how to name it.”

I tilt my head toward the mirror. Take that, you hypocritical prick. I know your deepest, darkest secret.

That lands. His fingers tighten on the mirror’s handle. Barely perceptible. But I catch it.

I take one slow step closer. Just enough for him to hear the edge in my voice.

“You look shaken,” I murmur. “Guess I’d be too… if someone saw what I saw.”

His eyes narrow, just slightly.

I smile. Not kind.

“I didn’t even have to fight you for the mirror,” I add. “But now that I’ve seen it—what’s in there—I think I understand you a little better.”

His silence says everything. Defensive. Controlled. But rattled.

I tilt my head, studying him like I’m searching for the cracks. “It’s a vulnerable thing, isn’t it? Wanting something you’re not supposed to.”

His expression doesn’t change. But he’s not looking at me anymore. He’s looking through me—at the version of himself I saw in the mirror, the one he’ll never be.

And I get it. Gods, I get it. Because I wanted mine, too. That throne. That blood. That control.

Behind me, Cat groans under her breath, “Gods. Just kiss or kill each other already.”

Nikolai’s jaw flexes.

Mine does too.

We don’t break eye contact.

“One minute,” Cat warns, bringing me back to reality.

Nikolai’s grip tightens on the mirror.

This is it. My last shot. He doesn’t know if I’ll keep his secret. But I do. Because the second I say it out loud, I lose the leverage.

“Give it to me,” I say, softer now. “Unless you want everyone knowing what the big bad wolf really wants.”

His eyes flash—just a flicker—but he doesn’t lower the mirror.

So I don’t wait.

I lunge.

Not to strike—just to grab it.

My hand clamps over his. His skin is warm, unyielding. For a heartbeat, we’re tethered—just long enough for the mirror to pulse like it’s alive between us.

He stiffens, reacting too late.

And then…

Light.

A blinding, starlit surge tears through the clearing and pulls the ground out from under us.

#

We land hard.

Dirt in my mouth. Bark in my hair. Trees groaning like they’re sick of us.

I gasp, coughing—lungs scorched, ears ringing. The world reassembles itself slowly, like a jigsaw made of moss and static.

Percy’s boots step into view. Arms crossed. Face unimpressed.

Behind him, the rest of the group flickers in—staggering, blinking like they’ve just surfaced from deep water.

“Midnight,” Percy announces dryly. “Right on time.”

I sit up, dazed. My hand is still tangled with Nikolai’s.

We’re both holding the mirror.

The cursed thing glints between us like it’s smug about it.

Kilronan groans somewhere to my left. Cat rolls onto her side, muttering curses. I think I catch “testosterone and idiocy” before she starts coughing.

Percy gives the group a once-over. When he gets to us, he does a double take. Then, visibly groans.

His shoulders slump like someone just told him the cafeteria ran out of coffee.

“A tie,” he mutters, dull and disappointed. “Of course.”

“Is that bad?” I hiss through the pain in my back.

“No,” Percy drawls, rubbing his temple like this is somehow our fault. “It’s just… unprecedented.”

Nikolai still hasn’t let go. A sign of defiance. Neither of us wants to be the first to admit defeat.

And in the mirror’s cracked silver surface, I can still see our reflections.

Him, breathing hard like he ran through a war. Me, with dried blood on my face and no clue whether I just won or lost.

Both of us staring at something we don’t understand.

Not yet.

“Enough,” comes a sharp voice from behind us.

Ta?sse.

Her boots crunch over the earth as she storms into view, open jacket whipping behind her like she conjured the wind herself.

Her eyes—gray and still as fog—skim the mirror first. Then Nikolai.

And then, briefly, they land on me.

Not a glare. Not a sneer.

Just a look sharp enough to slice through velvet.

“Get up.”

Her tone is clipped, impassive—but something in it pulses.

Neither of us moves.

She sighs, annoyed. “Drop it. Now. We’re done playing mortal, Nicky. Let it go… before it decides you’re worth keeping.”

It. She’s not talking about the mirror. She means me .

Nikolai’s jaw tightens.

So does mine.

But I let go.

So does he.

The mirror drops to the moss between us with a soft thunk—quiet, but heavy. Like a secret still breathing.

Ta?sse moves to Nikolai’s side and reaches down—deliberate, smooth, possessive.

Her fingers curl around his wrist, tugging him up like she’s reclaiming something she lent out too long.

Only when she turns to go does she speak again, cool and over her shoulder.

“You always did like broken things.”

The silence she leaves behind feels loud.

Nikolai follows, pausing only to meet my gaze over the corner of his shoulder.

And for once, I don’t look away.