Page 20 of Shadebound (Dark Fantasy #1)
T he bitter wind was rotting with the scent of something that made my inner wolf heave.
We were deep in the eastern grove of Mors’ land, where the trees grew so close together you could barely see the moon.
It wasn’t a lush place. More like a dying one—narrow trunks twisted toward each other, gnarled and overgrown.
Patches of moss clung to the jagged rocks.
The frost-laced leaves underfoot whispered with every step.
The ground sloped unevenly, roots jutting up like bones.
It usually smelt of wet bark and old decay.
And there were no birdsongs. No life. Just the kind of quiet that made your jaw clench.
It was the kind of place Jinx loved. It was all spooky, gothic shit that would have made her smile.
I thought about her as I ran through the woods.
Branches snagged at my combats, and the crunch of boots against the ground echoed louder than it should have, seeing as Hightower had banned anyone from leaving their dorms after lights out.
The other members of my pack were quiet and focussed, breathing slowly, moving lightly.
They’d all shifted into their full wolf form, and only someone truly listening would have caught their pads hitting the ground.
We were all desperately trying not to get caught.
Not again .
Maya trailed a few paces behind me, barefoot despite the cold, her damp hair braided with salt pearls that shimmered faintly under the moonlight.
Her skin still glowed subtly luminescent from the moon swim she’d been enjoying.
It was a ritual that tethered sirens to their strength, something ancient and quietly powerful.
It recharged them. Kept them whole. And judging by the tension in her shoulders, even that wasn’t enough.
She’d been the one who heard the screams. Said they cut through the water right as she’d finished her swim. Too loud. Too wrong . She hadn’t waited—she just ran straight for our dorm. I’d heard the urgency in her voice before she’d even finished whispering my name.
Something was wrong tonight. Even a human would have felt it in the way the wind blew.
The same wind that moved, bringing the scent of our hunt right to me.
I stilled and held up a hand. The nearest wolves froze instantly.
There were twenty of us out—those who’d already been on patrol, plus the ones Maya had dragged from their bunks along the way.
Some of them shifted back, immediately dithering in their various pyjamas and sleepwear that did nothing for the cold.
The others stayed in wolf form, making use of their thick fur coats.
Even though I’d brought it, I wasn’t wearing my jumper—never did if I could help it. The cold barely touched me, and I liked the bite of it. It kept me sharp, and I enjoyed the feel of the wind on my skin. It reminded me of all the years I’d spent running in my shifted form.
And I enjoyed a certain thick-thighed goth’s eyes on my abs. Because I was a vain asshole sometimes. Only on days that had a vowel in.
My wolves were alert. Their postures tense, eyes flicking through the underbrush. We’d caught the scent ten minutes ago, and it hadn’t faded.
Blood. Fresh, and layered with something wrong .
It smelt like... like Jinx. A little bit, anyway. Like the eternally morbid death scent that clung to her. The one that made me feel safe, and like I was at home for the first time in my life.
The only difference now was that the magic I could smell didn’t remind me of her version of my home.
It reminded me of my real one. Where an abusive alcoholic took out his inadequacies on his wife and son.
And a gold digging bitch preferred to stick with him for his status and the money, than to protect her only child.
I shrugged off my thoughts and stepped forward, sniffed the air again.
My jaw locked tighter as Maya drifted to my side, arms crossed over her chest. She was shivering from the breeze, so I untied my jumper from my waist. Forcing it over her head as she muttered a pretend rejection to the thick black wool that hung halfway down her thighs.
“You smell like a dog.” She huffed, eyes flickering neon as she finally used her water magic to pull all the water off her skin and hair. Clearly having been in such a rush, she forgot to do it before.
Leaning in closer, I inhaled deeply and then scrunched up my nose. “You stink like a fish.” I replied as I ruffled her hair until she swatted my hands away with a burst of icy water at my chest.
“Zayden, I will waterboard the fuck out of you if you sniff me again.”
Our bickering cut off when the wind changed again. My focus went right back to the reason we were out here in the first place.
“It’s close by,” I muttered to my pack, knowing that their hearing was good enough to catch my words. “Spread out and call me if you hear anything.”
A chorus of yes, Alpha, flickered in my head as they used our telepathic link to reply to my orders. It was convenient to communicate in that way. And I was very glad it was optional, not constant. I’d have hated to have had so many voices in my head all the time.
“Why didn’t you use your mind-talking thingy?” Maya cocked her head at me. “Seems like effort to speak with actual words.”
“So you could understand me, duh.” I lied.
She nodded and stuck with me, and we kept going north. Neither of us felt the need to fill the silence, and it was a good thing. For a few minutes later, as we crested a rise in the earth, we found the source of the screams.
The man’s body was crumpled beneath a fallen tree.
Runes had been carved into his skin, through the material of his shirt.
His throat had a jagged severance, his skin flapping in the breeze.
His eyes were open, unseeing. Glassy. Fixed on the canopy above like they were still trying to find the moon.
There was no blood left in the corpse, not even a single drop on the forest floor. Not a stain, not a spatter. Just the smell remained. My inner wolf heaved violently again, and bile churned in my gut.
“Fuck, that’s Connor. He’s in the chorus with me.” Maya hissed a breath through her teeth as her knees wobbled, and she grabbed my arm for support. “That’s the third body this month, too.” Her voice broke. “They must be here, Zayden. They must be inside Mors.”
Fourth, actually. But I didn’t correct her. Not because the number didn’t matter—it did—but because I didn’t want to say it out loud. What mattered more was how they died.
The same torn throat. The same runes carved into their skin. The same look of frozen shock in their eyes.
“It’s the same way Bells was killed,” I mumbled. “He looks exactly how Jinx described her sister.”
Maya looked at me, the words landing like a stone. Her mouth pressed into a tight line, and she didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. The tears that welled up in her eyes were enough, even before her breathing came in rapid pants and her free hand moved to her heart.
As I summoned my pack with a low whistle, I led Maya to a fallen tree nearby, gently getting her to take a seat.
“Head between your knees, Flipper.” I teased as I got on my knees. “I know you’re an idiot, but you’re not stupid enough to forget how to breathe.”
She shook her head, eyes wide and glassy, fingers trembling against her sternum like she was trying to physically hold herself together. Her breaths were coming too fast—sharp, shallow gulps that made her shoulders hitch.
“Maya,” I said, softer now, like talking down a spooked wolf. “Listen to me. You’re okay. It’s not Bells. She can’t be hurt ever again. And it’s not someone else you love, even if you knew him. You’re here. Right here with me. Your bestest prison friend in the world. You’re safe.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “I—I can’t—”
“Yes, you can.” I reached out, wrapping my hands around hers, grounding her palms against mine.
“Match me. One breath in...” I exaggerated it for her, deep and slow.
“And out. Come on, I’m not dragging your limp body back to the dorm again like when you got drunk at the last party.
Your reputation as a lightweight can’t take another hit. ”
A breath. Shaky, but deeper. Then another. And another. Until her fingers stopped twitching. Her shoulders lowered a fraction.
“That’s it,” I said, watching her colour return. “There’s my pain in the ass.”
She huffed something that might’ve been a laugh, or a sob, or both. And when she opened her eyes again, they were still wet—but focussed on me. No longer hazy and locked on the memories of her lost love.
I gave her one more second. Then I looked up, catching the flicker of glowing eyes between the trees. My wolves were arriving, boots and feet crunching frost and leaves, low voices murmuring as they saw what we had.
“Go deal with things.” Maya wiped a hand over her eyes.
“I’m okay here. My crisis is at a low stage, not high.
” She blew out a breath. “Connor didn’t come to the swim, but that’s normal for him.
He only came a few times because he liked swimming alone more.
I don’t really know if he had any friends here. ”
I stood slowly, nodding as I turned back to the siren’s corpse.
The others spread out around us. Saphira crouched beside the body, not touching, just looking. Her long hair fell over one eye as she examined the wounds, her fingers hovering above the skin.
I moved closer, stepping into the clearing and squinting down at the body.
The guy looked vaguely familiar. I didn’t know him, but I recognised the face.
Someone from a different class. One of those quiet, background types you saw in the hallways but never talked to.
It made sense if he was a loner, if Maya barely knew him too. Most sirens stuck together.
Connor’s skin was pale, stretched too thin over his bones. The absence of blood made everything seem starker, emptier. Like whatever had taken him had drained more than just his body.