Page 38 of In The Dark

“Ren,” I press, undeterred.

He glances at me, giving me a final once-over. “Fine, find a shovel and bury him yourself. I don’t care. I’m heading back to the inn to clean up,” he says, signaling an end to the conversation.

Ignoring his dismissal, I close the distance with precision, my head tilting up with my dagger pressed against his chest.

“If you tell King Elion I neglected my duties because I was preoccupied…” I scan his face, a small grin tugging at my lips. “I’ll tell him you slept through yours, since I’m assuming that’s what you were doing.”

He growls, eyes flicking over my face, knowing that what I threaten will get him fewer and fewer missions as a result. He only nods, something unreadable briefly crossing his face before it’s gone.

Then he leaves me alone to bury Alec in the dark. Ren strides down the path toward our inn, and when he’s finally out of sight, I lose what little composure I have left.

Quick breaths escape me. I feel something close to the panic I felt earlier before collapsing against the trunk of a nearby tree. With a few more long breaths, I close my eyes, focusing on controlling my breathing. Adrenaline still runs through my veins.

My eyes flick open to Alec’s lifeless body before I muster enough strength to meet him at his side and flip him over, suddenly not convinced that he’s alive. I find myself lifting his head to cradle him, sitting in the shadows for a few minutes as my breathing finally slows. What the fuck just happened?

“He’ll be fine.” A female voice echoes deep within the shadows of the trees. My head whips up as someone approaches on soft leaves, twenty feet away with her hood up.

“Who are you?” I demand.

Reaching over Alec’s body, I grip the dagger that fell. She strides forward, slow and steady as she approaches, before gripping the edges of her hood to reveal her face.

She’s beautiful, with dark skin that’s smooth and rich with almond-shaped eyes—expressive and deep, framed by her long lashes. Her black hair is wild and curly, cascading around hershoulders. The white streak lining the crown of her head makes her overall appearance noteworthy, if it wasn’t for the air of confidence she radiated. I briefly recall seeing her from Rydian’s memories.

“I’m Ivy,” she says, hands resting on the hilts of her swords peeking out from beneath her cloak. “I’m his second-in-command.”

She’s captivating, and it’s easy to see why Rydian chose her as his second, standing with a fierceness that commands attention. With wide eyes I glance down at Alec, who remains lifeless, noting a faint pink mark indicating that the cut is already healing.

“I can take him from here if you need to rest.”

“No, I need to stay,” I insist, shaking my head. “Just until he wakes up, please. I don’t want to go back.”

She looks at me with understanding, a flicker of compassion passing through her eyes when she finally nods. “It won’t be much longer. He’s already healing. To us it would be fatal, but to him, it’s a minor wound. He’ll be fine,” she says.

“I’m Isa.”

She gives me a soft smile. “I know. We’ve met.”

“We have?” My brows knit.

“Yes, at the inn. I tried to speak to you.”

My interactions at the inn run through me, and I realize that she must have been the innkeeper who grabbed my arm at breakfast.

“You can change your form like Rydian?” I ask.

She nods. “Yes. In Aurelia anyone from the realm can shift and enter the Veil, but the Shadovar have their own unique abilities like the Aetheri.”

“Like what?” I always knew they did. I just never bothered to learn the specifics considering speaking of the Shadovar was forbidden. Now I realize I just might need to, especially if I’m a princess. My pulse climbs at the thought.

Before she can answer me, movement rustles my lap, forcing my gaze to shift down.

Alec breathes. His form suddenly ripples, mindlessly changing back into the male I saw before Ren arrived—the king of Aurelia—and my eyes go wide. His auburn hair rests on his brow, though dark swirls of ink appear down the left side of his neck. Something I must have missed before.

“Rydian, can you hear me?”

He opens his eyes, a small smirk forming. “I hate dying. But if this is how I wake, I might not mind doing it again,” he mumbles, leaving me to groan at the untimely humor.

“Welcome back, Your Majesty.” Ivy grins, stifling a laugh as she bows at the waist.