Page 9 of Hitched to the Shadow Creature (Monster Matchmaking #3)

V arkolak

I returned from the hunt, blood still warm on my hands.

The mountain goat had been swift, but I was swifter.

My shadows had stretched across the rocky terrain, cornering it against the cliff face.

A clean kill. Aya would be pleased, she always appreciated fresh meat, though she prepared it in strange human ways that fascinated me.

"Aya?" My voice echoed through our cave dwelling.

Silence answered.

Something felt wrong. The air was too still, too empty. Her scent lingered but it was hours old. The fire pit that should have been burning had cooled to gray ash.

"Aya!" I called louder, moving deeper into our home.

The bed furs were disturbed, as if she'd been pulled from them. Her worn leather boots remained by the entrance, she never left without them. My chest tightened, a sensation I'd rarely felt before meeting her.

I dropped the goat carcass and inhaled deeply, searching for other scents. There. Beneath her familiar fragrance were others. My kind. Several of them.

My control slipped. Shadows burst from my skin in tendrils of rage, darkening the cave until even my night-vision strained. The walls cracked where my darkness touched them.

"Who took her?" I snarled to the empty room, knowing the answer already.

The Elders had threatened this. Warned me that bonding with her would never be tolerated. I'd ignored them, believing my position as lead hunter would protect us both.

I'd been wrong.

I found Umbra at the sacred pools, his liquid shadow form barely distinguishable from the dark waters. Of all the Council, he'd been the most vocal against my union with Aya.

"Where is she?" My voice was barely human, distorted by rage.

Umbra's form solidified, tall and imposing. His eyes, silver pinpricks in a face of darkness, regarded me coldly.

"The human is being cleansed. It is for your own good, Varkolak. For the good of our kind."

My shadows whipped forward, wrapping around his throat before he could react. "What do you mean, cleansed?"

He didn't struggle. "The bond between you is unnatural. We are removing it. The ritual will purge her memory of you, of us. She will return to her people, where she belongs."

Horror replaced rage. Memory purging was ancient magic, rarely used. Painful. Sometimes fatal to humans.

"Who authorized this?" I tightened my grip.

"The full Council. Unanimously." His silver eyes narrowed. "Including your father."

I released him, stepping back. My father. The Elder who'd lost everything when my mother died. Who'd raised me alone, against tradition.

"You know where they've taken her." Not a question.

Umbra straightened his shadowy form. "The Void Chamber. Deep in the mountain. But you're too late. The ritual began at moonrise."

I lunged forward, slamming him against the rock wall. "If she dies?—"

"Then she was too weak for you anyway." His voice held no emotion. "Think, Varkolak. Remember what happened to your mother. Would you wish that fate on this human girl?"

My grip faltered. Memories I'd locked away for years threatened to surface.

"Aya is stronger than you know." I released him and turned away, shadows already stretching toward the mountain's heart.

"The Chamber is guarded!" he called after me. "They will kill you before letting you interfere!"

I didn't respond. Let them try.

The ancient passages of our mountain were a labyrinth to outsiders, but a map etched in my blood.

I moved through shadow, faster than physical form would allow, thinking only of Aya's face.

Her smile when I brought her shells from the distant shores.

Her fierce determination as she learned to hunt alongside me.

Her soft voice in darkness, telling me stories of her human life.

The memory hit me as I raced through the deepest corridor—the first time she'd spoken of her parents.

"I don't really remember them," she'd admitted, her head resting on my chest. "Just feelings. Warmth. Safety."

"My mother died when I was young, too," I'd said, words I'd shared with no one.

Aya had lifted her head, those curious brown eyes searching mine. "What happened to her?"

Now, as I descended into the mountain's depths, that suppressed memory broke free.

Twenty years earlier

"Hide, Varkolak. Promise me." My mother's face was pale, her features stark with fear.

I was eight, small for a shadow creature, my abilities not fully formed. "I want to stay with you."

"Your father will come." She pushed me toward the small crevice in our cave home. "He will protect us both. But you must hide now."

Outside, voices grew louder. The Elders had come, finally making good on their threats. My mother, a beautiful, fragile, half-human, had never been accepted.

"The abomination must end," I heard Elder Koros say. "The child, too. Half-breeds weaken our bloodline."

My mother stepped outside to face them. I peered through the crack, disobeying her command to hide completely.

"My son is stronger than any pure-blood child," she said, her voice steady despite her fear. "His father will?—"

"His father has been detained," Umbra said, younger then but already cruel. "For the crime of diluting our species."

What happened next burned into my memory forever. They didn't touch her and they didn't need to. Shadow magic works differently on humans. They simply surrounded her, their darkness pressing in, extracting her life essence breath by breath.

I watched her collapse. Watched her skin gray and wither. Heard her final whisper: "Varkolak, live."

My father arrived too late, his roar of anguish shaking the mountain itself. In his rage, he killed three Elders before they subdued him. His punishment was to live, to serve on the Council that had murdered his mate, to raise the half-breed son alone.

To never speak of what happened.

The memory faded as I approached the Void Chamber. Four guards stood at the entrance, their shadows alert and writhing.

"Turn back, Varkolak," the leader said. "This is Council business."

"Aya is my business." I stepped forward, letting my control slip further. Darkness spilled from me in waves, filling the corridor.

"We have orders?—"

"So do I."

I didn't give them time to prepare. My shadows struck like vipers, disabling rather than killing. These were my people, after all. Misguided, but following orders.

Within moments, they lay unconscious, and I stood before the ancient door carved with warnings in our old language: That which enters whole may leave broken. That which is broken may leave whole.

I pushed it open.

The Void Chamber earned its name. A perfect sphere carved from the living mountain, its walls absorbing all light. At its center floated a pool of liquid darkness, not shadow magic but something older, deeper.

Aya hung suspended above it, her body arched in pain, her eyes wide but unseeing. Five Elders stood around her, including my father. Their shadows connected to hers, pulling something from her.

Her memories. Her feelings. Her soul.

"STOP!" My voice thundered through the chamber.

The Elders turned as one, their concentration broken. Aya sagged in her magical bonds.

My father stepped forward. "Son, you don't understand what's at stake."

"I understand everything." I moved closer, my shadows spreading to fill the chamber. "You're trying to take her from me, just like you took my mother."

Murmurs rippled through the Elders. Many hadn't been present for that atrocity.

"Your mother was different," my father said, his voice pained. "The bond between you and this human threatens our entire species."

"How?" I demanded. "How does love threaten anyone?"

Elder Mira spoke up, her female voice rare among our leadership. "The prophecy, Varkolak. 'When shadow loves light, darkness will fall.' Your union could destroy us all."

I laughed bitterly. "A children's tale to keep us isolated. To keep us afraid."

"The ritual is nearly complete," my father said. "She'll remember nothing of us, of you. She'll return to her people unharmed."

I looked up at Aya, her body limp, face contorted. "Does she look unharmed to you?"

Without waiting for their response, I attacked. Not with rage this time, but with precision. My shadows sliced through their magical bonds, severing their connection to Aya. She fell toward the dark pool.

I lunged forward, catching her before she touched its surface. The Elders recovered quickly, their combined power pressing against me.

"You defy the Council?" Elder Koros demanded.

"I defy anyone who would harm her." I held Aya close, her breathing shallow but present.

My father stepped forward, his expression torn. "Varkolak, please. I can't lose you too."

"Then help me," I whispered. "Break the cycle."

For a moment, just a moment, I thought he might. Then his face hardened.

"Restrain him. Complete the ritual."

Their shadows struck from all sides. I was powerful, but not against five Elders. Not while protecting Aya. Their darkness closed around us both, squeezing, separating me from her.

"No!" I fought harder, watching them drag her back toward the pool. "Aya! Wake up!"

Her eyelids fluttered. Recognition dawned in those beautiful brown eyes. "Var?—?"

"Don't let them take your memories," I gasped against the crushing pressure. "Think of us. Hold onto us."

Elder Mira began the incantation, her voice resonating through the chamber. The dark pool below Aya swirled, reaching up with tendrils of oblivion.

In desperation, I called upon the deepest part of my heritage, the part I'd always feared. The human half. My mother's gift.

Light erupted from within my shadows.

The Elders shrieked, their concentration broken. My father staggered back, eyes wide with shock.

"Impossible," he whispered.

The light pulsed from me in waves, neither bright nor blinding, but something else, the absence of darkness. Where it touched, shadows retreated. The magical bonds holding Aya dissolved completely.

I caught her again as she fell, this time holding her securely against my chest. Her eyes found mine, confused but clearing.

"What's happening?" she whispered.

"I'm taking you home." I turned to face the Elders, who had backed against the chamber walls. "We're leaving. Anyone who tries to stop us dies."

My father stepped forward, hands raised in a peacekeeping gesture. "The prophecy, you've fulfilled it. When shadow loves light, darkness will fall . Look at yourself, son."

I glanced down. Where my shadows had always flowed, now light and dark intermingled, creating something new.

"The prophecy wasn't about destruction," he continued, wonder in his voice. "It was about evolution. About becoming something more."

The other Elders murmured among themselves, some fearful, others curious.

"I don't care about prophecies," I said. "I care about her. About our future together."

Aya's hand touched my face. "Your eyes, they're different."

Elder Mira approached cautiously. "The ritual was incomplete. She retains her memories, but the connection between you has been changed."

"How?" I demanded.

"We don't know." Her silver eyes studied us. "This has never happened before."

My father came closer, his gaze fixed on Aya. "Can you still feel him? The bond between you?"

Aya's fingers tightened on my arm. "Yes. It's stronger. Different."

"Let us examine—" he began.

"No." I stepped back, keeping Aya protected. "We've had enough of your examinations and rituals. We're leaving this mountain. Tonight."

"And go where?" my father asked.

"Somewhere neither human nor shadow. Somewhere we can be both."

I looked at Aya, seeking confirmation in her eyes. She nodded, determination replacing fear.

"The human colonies won't accept you," Elder Koros warned. "And after this, neither will our people."

"Then we'll build something new," Aya said, her voice growing stronger. "Between your world and mine."

I guided her toward the chamber entrance, keeping my body between her and the Elders. None moved to stop us.

At the doorway, my father called out: "Varkolak. Your mother would be proud."

I paused, the words hitting deeper than any attack. Then, without looking back, I led Aya from the darkness and toward whatever light we might find together.