Page 5 of Beasts of Shadows #1
I’ve marked the important sections, but start with this one—it’s central to most pantheon dynamics we’ll encounter.
The Myth of Life and Death
In the earliest days of the Mortal Realm, the Father God, Thantos, took the Mother God, Celeste, as his consort. From their union came twin daughters: Freyja and Calea. They were complements in every sense—Freyja gravitated toward the living, and Calea toward the dead.
The seasons reflected them. Freyja’s domain encompassed the vitality of spring and summer, while Calea presided over the long, desolate winters.
But time changed things. Freyja thrived, seemingly untouched by age, while Calea grew brittle and worn. Jealousy set in. To secure eternal rule, Calea struck a deal with her father: she would become his consort if he removed Freyja from power.
Thantos agreed. Freyja was killed. Calea claimed the full cycle of the year.
But Calea was strategic. In the act of betrayal, she cursed Thantos—chaining him to the Shadow Realm, unable to cross between worlds on his own. It left him impotent in the affairs of mortals and gave Calea dominion over both divine and earthly lands.
There was a cost, of course.
Calea bore a daughter: Morrigu. Warned that a female heir would eventually destroy her, Calea cast the child into the Mortal Realm, hoping nature would take its course.
It didn’t.
A she-wolf found the girl and raised her in the wild. As humanity expanded and godborn creatures multiplied, Morrigu adapted. She divided herself into three aspects—Nowen, Bea, and Macha—to better survive.
Together, they formed the Triad. And Calea’s fear? Entirely justified.
This myth isn’t just old history. It informs nearly everything we’re living through. You’ll see what I mean soon enough.
- Reema
∞∞∞
I jerk forward, vomiting seawater and bile onto the moonlit beach.
“Just…stop moving for a second,” a voice bites, breaking the rope.
I roll over and sprawl my fingers into the slick sand, drawing in sweet oxygen. Nothing has ever tasted so good. I don’t even care how the salty air stings my once bound limbs and burning throat.
I pant, dragging my freed arm across my mouth to wipe away the last of the vomit. I only deposit loose sand across my cheek.
Finally composed, I have enough sense to face my savior.
It’s Cody. The blond guy from the field. His saturated curls fall into his grinning face.
“You okay?” He helps me into a seated position.
“I…I think so.” My voice is raspy. My head is pounding, and my limbs are trembling. But otherwise, I’m alive.
I’m alive.
Someone tried to kill me.
I curve my fingers in fury.
“Thanks,” I mutter, pushing the stranger away. My attempt to stand stutters when my legs give out beneath me. “Not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing here?”
He chuckles, letting me gather my bearings. My body continues to quiver from a combination of thirty-degree weather and the trauma of fighting the sea. The only thing that’ll make me feel better is a hot shower and fuzzy jammies. But I can’t complain.
Because I’m alive.
I cut a look in Cody’s direction, wondering if this is another part of the game.
He doesn’t look like the typical shade—but not all monsters wear horns. Those are the kinds my dad warned me against before I left.
The ones that look mortal, but are way worse underneath.
“Yea, you didn’t stand a chance.” Cody offers his gloved hand, dragging me to my feet.
“Hey, I was holding my own.”
Cody just smirks.
“Especially with Nikolai riding your ass in the first five minutes. Someone had to keep an eye on you.”
Nikolai? Must be the guy chasing me from the field.
“And that someone had to be you?” I flick the silvery sandy pebbles from my flesh. I have to stay on my guard, but I can’t bite back my joking, “I’m flattered, but—.”
Cody’s barking laugh cuts me off.
“Oh, babe, no .” He gives me a quick over, shakes his head, and laughs again. “I promised Sam I’d keep you out of trouble.”
Sam? Do I know a Sam?
The world tilts. My vision narrows. For a moment, the chill of the ocean fades, replaced by warm amber light and the rustle of dry leaves.
A man sits on a weathered bench beneath an iron-laced tree, watching a younger version of Cody—no more than seven—run off into the distance. The man doesn’t follow. Just folds his hands over a worn leather journal and stares ahead like he’s seen the end of a war.
Then he turns. His face is lined, tired, eyes impossibly clear. There’s grief there, but no regret. He looks right at me.
“You have a Wallace Clan birthmark just above your thing,” he says gently, and I’m shaken by how much his voice sounds like my dad. “Cody’s is just behind his left ear. Same spiral. Same blood.”
I blink. The bench, the boy, the tree—gone.
Only the salt in my throat remains. Three people know about the birthmark on my leg. A thin, oval ring like an eclipse. Mom, Dad, and Ravi.
And apparently, this random guy in my vision. I’m not about to ask this strange man if I can look behind his ear.
…Although I’m tempted.
I huff to shake off my nerves. “And Sam is…?”
“Wait.” Cody holds up a palm, calculating. “You really don’t know who I am? I thought you were messing around.”
“Are you, like, famous, or something?”
Maybe he really is in a boy band. Or, like, the Shadow Realm version of boy bands. I mean, they have to do something besides harass mortals, right?
Although tonight’s entertainment seems to prove me wrong.
Cody shakes out his crisp white blouse, muttering to himself. At the hiss of “ungrateful,” I ready a snarky comment that I don’t have a chance to deliver as he gives his hair a toss and levels me with a more calculated expression.
“Consider it a courtesy extended only to family. Cousins,” he clarifies.
“Consider it a courtesy extended only to family. Cousins,” he clarifies.
Cousins?
The word hits harder than it should. Not in a sweet, homey way—but like a fist landing somewhere soft. I freeze, cold and sea-drenched, staring at this smug, laughing boy like I’ve missed something vital.
My dad never met his father. He never talked about his extended family at all—just vague stories about bloodlines best left buried. I always assumed that meant violence. Or secrets.
And now, one of them is standing in front of me. Alive. Smirking.
Family is supposed to feel like safety. But this just feels like another trap I didn’t see coming.
My skepticism must show, because Cody gives a shrug.
“Wanna hug it out?”
“Pass.”
“That’s fair.” Before he can say anything else, a new scream fills the air, robbing his teasing mood. I rub my goose flesh arms. “Come on. There’s a cabin not far from here, and it’s warded. I’ll fill you in on everything once we’re inside.”
I give one last glance at the water, then fall in line behind him.
∞∞∞
Cabin is a generous word. More like a glorified shack with plumbing I don’t trust.
Cody gestures me inside, tugging at his gloves like the doorknob might be radioactive.
Definitely a germ freak.
I have a thousand questions in my head, waiting for the door to close. Except before I can get the words out, a figure stands from the barely functioning couch to our right.
Cody draws to an unexpected stop.
“Reema?”
The girl offers an apologetic smile, looking between Cody and I. Probably getting the totally wrong idea. And as much as I want to set her straight, the words won’t come.
This girl is stunning —goddess level. Which, given where we are, might be literal.
Her chestnut ponytail falls in loose waves down her back, caramel highlights catching in the dim lantern’s glow. I’m struck by her tiger’s eye orbs, set behind long, black lashes that sparkle like morning dew.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” she says at last, returning to Cody.
His grip tightens on the doorjamb with a hostility that is completely off brand for him. Well, so far. It’s not like I’ve known him long, or anything.
“Geneir said you wouldn’t mind.”
“I wouldn’t mind Geneir ,” Cody contradicts.
Realizing someone needs to diffuse this potentially bombastic situation, I surge forward and offer my palm.
“Hi. Nari Harper.” I nudge Cody. “Cody’s cousin. Allegedly.”
“Reema Zerelli,” she replies, edginess fading from her cheeks. “Cousin, yea? What a genetic burden. You have my condolences.”
Wow. She’s witty and terrifying. Respect.
“Why didn’t you stay in the dorms, Zerelli?” Cody grunts, sliding toward the kitchenette off the front door. He frees a bottle of freaking whiskey and drinks straight from the top.
Okay, so he’s a germ freak, unless it’s alcohol and emotional avoidance. Got it.
Guess he doesn’t plan on sharing. His whole stature is rigid, icy eyes staring our companion down.
“Only idiots brave the revelry.”
Revelry? Is that what they refer to the reception as? That is so messed up, but completely on brand with what I know about the Shadow Realm.
“Explains why you’re out, then.” Reema smiles sweetly. She lifts her blanket off her shoulders and drapes it over mine. “Don’t be a brute. Do you have a change of clothes somewhere in this man cave for your guest? Why are you soaking wet?”
“Bogeys tossed her in the sea.”
“Ever the knight in shining armor,” Reema scoffs, gesturing me toward what I assume is a bedroom. Cody shifts uncomfortably, looking down at his soaked clothes with a scowl, as if he just realized he’s also been wearing a soggy disaster for too long.
“How about tossing me some sweats while you’re in there?” He tries to peel the drenched shirt from his skin. “I’m not up for wearing this wonderful outfit all night.”
“Don’t be modest, Wyatt. You can pull off any look, right? Even drowned rat?”
“It adds to your charm,” I contribute, sharing a smirk with Reema. New bestie vibes?
Cody just gives a dry laugh, going back to his bottle.
∞∞∞
“So what’s the deal with you and Cody?” I ask once Reema has tossed fresh clothes out the bedroom door, like scraps from the table for a dog. “Bad breakup, or something?”