Page 31

31

T he moment Veris disappeared through the doorway, I rushed to Gavin, my heart hammering against my ribcage, and fell to my knees beside him. His body was a wreck—skin ashen where it wasn’t coated in dried blood, his usually immaculate appearance shattered by weeks of captivity. The cruel mask had left angry red gouges across his face, open wounds where corrupted manganese had rubbed his skin raw, and in his depleted state, he hadn’t had the energy to heal.

I wanted to touch him, to hold him, but I hesitated, afraid of causing him more pain.

His eyes found mine, those distinctive silver irises now dull and clouded with exhaustion, but recognition sparked in their depths. “Sophie,” he whispered, his voice like sandpaper against stone.

Just my name. Nothing else. But the relief in that single word was everything.

“I’m here,” I said, finally reaching for him. My hands hovered over his face, tracing the air above his wounds without touching them. “I’m sorry it took so long.” I whimpered. “I’m so sorry.”

Javier positioned himself between us and the shifter commanders, his back to us, his body coiled with lethal tension. Through our bond, I sensed his focused vigilance, his eyes tracking every movement in the room while giving Gavin and me this moment.

Gavin attempted to push himself upright, but his arms were too weak. “You shouldn’t have come,” he rasped, collapsing back onto the hard floor with a grunt. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I wasn’t going to leave you here.” I slid my hand into his, careful of the raw wounds around his wrist. His skin was like ice. “I couldn’t.”

His fingers weakly curled around mine, the gesture speaking volumes about his depleted state. The Shadow King’s corruption clung to him like an oily film, seeping from the wounds left by the manganese restraints.

“How bad is it?” I asked, though I could see the answer in the hollows of his cheeks, the labored rise and fall of his chest. Could sense it in the shadow taint wafting off him.

A ghost of his familiar, self-assured smile crossed his lips. “I’ve had worse.”

The attempt at humor broke something loose in my chest. I laughed, a sound closer to a sob. “Liar.”

The Sun commanders shifted uncomfortably, looking away from our reunion, perhaps finding something too relatable in the display.

“I need to feed you,” I said, keeping my voice low. My eyes cut to the watching shifters, then back to Gavin. “Now. Before Veris returns.”

Gavin’s eyes widened slightly. “Sophie—”

“No arguments.” I helped him sit up part way, settling his head on my lap. “You need blood to heal…at least to cleanse away that awful shadow taint.”

His lips parted, protest forming, but I saw the hunger flare in his eyes. The darkened veins beneath his skin, telltale signs of severe blood deprivation. How long had it been since they’d allowed him to feed? Days? Weeks? Had they been starving him the entire time he’d been their captive?

I glanced at Javier, who gave me a terse nod without breaking his vigilant stance. Silent permission. Understanding.

I held my wrist in front of Gavin’s mouth. “Take what you need,” I whispered. “Hurry.”

He shook his head, though it was a weak gesture. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

“If I have to bite my own wrist, I will, and that’ll hurt a hell of a lot more than if you do it.” I pressed my wrist to his lips. “Do it, Gavin. We don’t have much time.”

His eyes held mine for a long moment, silver depths still clouded with pain but now burning with something else. Hunger. Need. Desire. With agonizing slowness, his lips parted, and I felt his cool breath against my skin.

“I’ll stop when you tell me,” he promised, his voice steadier than it had been moments ago.

I nodded, bracing myself. When his fangs pierced my skin, the initial sting made me bite back a gasp, but it quickly transformed into a wave of warmth that rushed through my veins, straight to my core. Not the overwhelming, desperate hunger of our first communion , but something deeper—a connection reawakening after too long apart.

Through our bond, I felt the shadow taint recoiling from the moonlight in my blood. My power moved through him like a cleansing fire, burning away corruption, closing wounds, restoring what had been damaged. With each pull of his mouth against my wrist, his presence in my mind grew stronger, a flicker becoming a steady flame.

The intensity caught me off guard. Pleasure built low in my belly as his feeding continued. My head tipped back slightly, eyelids half-closing. I fought to keep my breathing steady, aware of the shifters watching from across the room, their expressions a mixture of fascination and disgust.

I glanced down to see color returning to Gavin’s skin. The wounds around his wrists and face looked less angry, parts even beginning to close.

“Not yet,” I whispered, pushing my wrist more firmly against his mouth. “Take more.”

Gavin made a sound low in his throat, half-protest, half-surrender. He gripped my arm tighter, holding me closer as he drank deeper. Power flowed between us, awakening something primal and possessive. I felt his hunger shifting, transforming into a different kind of need.

My free hand tangled in his hair, my nails scraping lightly against his scalp. The gesture was meant to be soothing, but the way his body tensed told me it was anything but. The pleasure building between us was spiraling toward something we couldn’t surrender to—not here, not now. Not with hostile eyes upon us.

“Enough,” I said, breathless, and with tremendous effort, I pulled my wrist away from his mouth.

Gavin caught my hand, bringing my wrist back to his lips. Not to drink, but to seal the wound with a slow, deliberate caress of his tongue. His silver eyes never left mine, a promise in their depths that sent heat pooling low in my belly.

“Thank you,” he murmured against my skin.

Through our renewed bond, I sensed Gavin’s strength returning, the shadow taint banished. He was far from healed—that would take much more than a quick feeding—but the corruption had been cleansed from his body, and the worst of his injuries were less severe than before.

The shifter commanders whispered among themselves, clearly disturbed by the display.

Gavin sat up, easing himself from my lap with newfound steadiness. “What have you promised him?” he asked, his voice low and urgent. His fingers remained interlaced with mine, as if he couldn’t bear to break the physical connection.

“The curse,” I said simply. “I’m going to break it.”

His expression darkened, silver eyes sharpening with alarm. “Sophie, no!” he said. “You can’t. The curse—”

“—protects the shifters from the Shadow King’s corruption,” I finished for him, keeping my voice low enough that the commanders couldn’t hear. “I know. I figured it out.”

“Then why would you agree to remove it?” The confusion in his eyes mirrored the tension in his body.

I leaned closer, our foreheads nearly touching. “Because the barrier between worlds is already failing. The Shadow King is breaking through. I’ve seen it.” I glanced toward the chamber walls, where corrupted manganese veins pulsed with subtle shadow taint. “The corruption is already spreading.”

“More visions?” he asked, understanding dawning in his eyes, followed by strategic calculation.

I nodded.

“And what does Veris offer in return?”

“You. The queens. And…” I hesitated, searching his face. “A piece of my mom he kept all these years.”

Fury flashed across Gavin’s features, his fingers tightening around mine until they nearly hurt. “After all this time, he had a part of her?”

I nodded, swallowing against the knot in my throat. “Her ghost is here, Gavin. I can sense her, just barely, but the suppression wards are too strong. She’s trying to warn us about something , but I can’t make it out.”

A flicker of alarm passed through our bond, but before Gavin could say more, the atmosphere in the room shifted suddenly, a cold draft sweeping through the chamber. Javier’s tension spiked through our bond, his stance widening as he prepared for a threat. I knew without looking that Veris was returning.

Gavin released my hand and pushed himself upright, wavering only slightly before finding his balance. I rose alongside him, positioning myself between him and the door as it swung open.

Veris strode in, carrying a tiny lacquered box. His keen eyes assessed us, lingering on the fresh marks on my wrist, then on Gavin’s healing wounds and improved coloring.

“How touching,” Veris drawled, his smile lacking sentiment. “Feeding your pet already? I hope you’ve left enough for our ritual.” His gaze traveled over me with deliberate lewdness. “You’ll need your strength when we’re done.”

The suggestion in his tone made my skin crawl, but I kept my expression neutral as I extended my hand. “My mother’s remains.”

Veris placed the box in my palm with exaggerated care, his fingertips lingering against my skin a moment too long. “A lock of her hair,” he said, his voice softening with what might have been mistaken for genuine emotion if it had come from anyone else. “It was all I could salvage before the fire consumed her.”

The box felt impossibly heavy in my hand for something as light as hair. I curled my fingers around the box and held it against my chest, resisting the urge to open it immediately.

“And the queens?” I asked, my voice steadier than I felt.

“Being brought to the ritual chamber as we speak,” Veris replied, his composure returning. “Along with our guest from the House of the Stars.” His eyes glittered with calculation. “Everything as agreed. Now, it’s time for you to fulfill your part of our bargain.”

I slipped the box into my pocket, feeling its weight against my hip like a hunk of lead. With one hand, I reached back for Gavin, who stepped forward on steadier legs than before. With my other hand, I reached for Javier, who moved to my side without taking his eyes off Veris.

I raised my chin and met Veris’s hard stare. “Lead the way.”