Page 23 of Shadebound (Dark Fantasy #1)

“ Zayden ,” she retorted again, not backing down an inch, her eyes locked onto his.

She turned to me, her face filled with a seriousness that made me sit up a little straighter.

“I want to tell you something,” she drawled.

“But I’m worried about how you’ll take it.

And I really don’t want to cause any drama.

But I also know you think secret keeping is a crime worthy of corporal punishment. ”

I arched an eyebrow, my mind already racing at top speed, trying to piece together their secret. If they were about to tell me they were dating or something, I was ready to light this place up like a bonfire. No questions asked. Both of them could sizzle for all I cared because... because...

Why? Why did it matter? Why was the inkling of them having a secret enough to make me want to set them on fire?

Why did the thought of Zayden touching another woman make me want to commit war crimes? Especially when I had... well, it wasn’t like I’d slept with anyone else. But I had kissed one other man.

Just once.

Ignoring my murderous urges, I tried to think rationally. Not just because they hadn’t shared what their secret was. But because I was fond of them. I didn’t want to burn those bridges.

But still ... The thought of flames danced enticingly in my mind, flickering at the edges of my imagination.

Maya must’ve read it on my face. She groaned, her nose wrinkling in disgust. “I’m not fucking Zayden.”

“Dude,” Zayden blinked at her. “It’s true, and ew, gross. But why’d you say that like it was the worst thing in the world? I’m hot.” He flexed as he said it.

Even I rolled my eyes at that, and I actually liked him.

She fake gagged, then she flicked her fingers, misting his face with a spritz of her water magic to shut him up. “If I ever wanted a dick near me, it would not be yours. I’d rather ride a polar bear shifter whilst they were shifted.”

They started bickering, their voices climbing over each other, getting louder with every petty jab and snide comeback.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, already regretting every life choice that had led me to this very moment.

Even more so when Zayden ordered Maya out into the hallway, so they could continue their secret keeping in. .. well, in secret.

I stopped glaring at the door when my brother stirred.

He gave me a small wave and signed, Morning.

I signed back. How did you sleep?

All good thanks . He yawned and stretched, and the bed next to him shifted.

Luna poked her head out from under the thin blankets, her silvery hair a tangled mess. She signed to Draven, Want to get breakfast while the grown-ups argue? I’m starving.

He nodded eagerly, and just like that, my brother had been stolen away.

Off to do normal things, in the prison he wasn’t supposed to be in.

Not at all concerned that he was a walking target, or that he was meant to be back home doing teenager things.

Like... like doom scrolling online. Perhaps playing video games.

Or debating about how capitalism was a plague and murdering billionaires should have led to knighthood, not death sentences.

Or whatever else it was people his age cared to do.

I didn’t care to ask. Teenagers disgusted me.

I kept glancing around the room as they hurried to dress and slipped out. Once again, I tried to stay calm. To let him do his thing without smothering him. It was hard—harder than I wanted to admit. But I liked that he was being included. And Luna seemed nice.

She was also too young to have her bones rot from the inside out. Too young to meet Death in the quiet, crumbling way that left no glory behind. I liked dying things, sure—but not for girls like her. And if my brother could bring her a few smiles before the inevitable came, then I was all for it.

See seemed the sort to enjoy smiling, rather than think it was hideous.

Shoving aside my empathy, I sent Silk to follow my brother again. Even if it drained me for the rest of the day, I knew I had no choice.

Unfortunately, with the wolves and my brother gone, Maya and Zayden taking their sweet time bickering about whatever secret they were hiding, and no shadows awake enough to let me eavesdrop, that left me with nothing to do but stare.

At the gifted doll on my bed, with its eyes watching me. At the walls.

At Fiore, especially.

He glared as he dressed. I stared at his face, not at his presumably tiny cock. When he started breathing smoke from his nose, I sarcastically waved. But even though I clearly bothered him, he did nothing in response.

Clearly, he was too much of a coward to attack me in the daylight.

I was growing annoyed with each passing second. Not just because of him. But with Zayden and Maya.

If my friends wanted to keep secrets, fine.

I could hardly cut their filthy tongues out.

That was not the way one kept friends. But I had better things to do than sit around waiting for two idiots to avoid the obvious option of truth telling.

It was my first full day at Mors. I had plans. Things to figure out.

So I wasn’t going to wait anymore. Instead, I grabbed the pile of clothes Zayden had left at the foot of my bed, ready to continue my morning and get on with it.

With another sigh, I ducked into the tiny bathroom.

There was a small box of toiletries on a rickety wooden shelf.

Zayden had shoved it into my hands last night.

It had everything: soap, deodorant, toothpaste, even hair ties.

It was surprisingly full and easy enough for me to get ready with.

Less than a single hummed lullaby later I’d scrubbed my face and the blood on my skin, then fluffed up my hair, and tied it into messy braids.

Then I peeled off the rest of my old clothes, one piece at a time.

They smelt of sleep, public spaces, and desperation.

A gross combination. The straps of my bra dug into my shoulders and ribs, fabric twisted tight across my chest, punishment for passing out fully dressed.

But I had no time to lie around braless and in heaven.

So it was with a heavy scowl that I left it on as I changed into the approved uniform.

Hating every second of the cheap material touching my skin.

Before yanking on some black socks and my own combat boots I’d arrived in.

The new uniform Zayden had picked out fit perfectly. Even the fresh underwear. Which was sweet. And mildly unsettling.

I wasn’t bothered that he knew my underwear size, but I was trying to work out how he’d figured it out when I’d never told him. I hadn’t pegged him as a panty sniffing hooligan, but perhaps that had been a mistake.

Perhaps he had a drawer full of stolen thongs and lace-kissed tokens of our relationship hidden away.

Perhaps I was having a mental break down because the notion sounded disturbingly sweet in my head. Not at all like a red flag screaming at me.

Blowing out a deep breath, I stared at my reflection once I was done. I did it for long enough that I could wish Death would murder me before I had to continue socialising with strangers. Unfortunately, he didn’t, so I had to carry on with my day.

Though I pocketed my magic stones, hoping one of them was designed to make me feel less like a corpse warmed up. And to help me feel less horrid about my missing necklace.

When I forced myself to leave the bathroom, I walked straight into Fiore. Or at least, his broad chest.

He’d clearly been waiting outside the room. I collided with him on my way out, stumbling as I caught myself. He didn’t move, didn’t offer a hand, just stayed exactly where he was—smirking like he’d found something amusing and was far too proud of himself to explain why.

We stared at each other when I stopped flailing. I relented first, but only because I was tired and impatient.

I sighed and spoke in Italian so his friends hopefully wouldn’t understand our conversation. “ For such a big man, you act like a little bitch.”

He continued to smirk down at me. “ At least this little bitch knows what your friends are hiding from you.”

I stilled, hands clenching at my side. “ Excuse me?”

He said nothing as we stared each other down for a solid minute until I lost my patience again.

“Fiore,” I said sharply. “Tell me, or I swear to-”

“Alessandro,” he cut me off. “My name is Alessandro.”

“Great,” I replied, voice flat . “Now I know what to carve on your grave.”

I tilted my head, forcing myself to bite back another snide comment. I needed him to talk, to spill whatever it was Maya and Zayden were keeping from me. So, against my better judgement, I tried something resembling diplomacy.

He just kept standing there, shirtless, scowling. Clearly stupid.

I folded my arms, switching back to English for my convenience when I noticed his friends leave. “I’ve decided to be a rational person. If you say sorry for putting a knife to my throat, and molesting me in my sleep, I’ll forgo all forms of revenge. Seems fair.”

He laughed, accent thick as he said, “You have no magic right now. You’re useless.”

Then, quick as a strike, his large hand wrapped around my throat and he shoved me back into the bathroom. The door slammed shut behind us, and I didn’t try to fight him.

Not because I was scared, not because I was terrible at fighting and he was stronger than me. But because I wanted to see what he planned to do before I worked out his punishment.

He let out a deep growl as my spine hit the stone wall. His magic fire crackled to life—blue and ghostly with an oddness that made me wonder what was so special about his dragon. It wrapped around my body, stinging just enough to make my skin flinch. But not enough to truly hurt.

His eyes burned; smoke swirled from his nostrils. His grip dropped as I glanced towards the shelf, spotting something shining in the basket near my hand.

He was unaware that my fingertips were searching as he growled at me.

“I am not apologising to you, Draconis.I’ve worked too hard to let you come in and ruin my life. Just like your bitch sister did. Bells died before I could deal with her, but I sure as fuck have time to make you learn not to get extra time added to my sentence.”

I froze, my body locking in place as his words sank in. My chest tightened with something ugly and cold, and for a second, all I could do was stare at him.

Alessandro knew Bells. Not just the facts anyone could learn from a news article or whispered rumour. My twin wasn’t a headline to him. She had been real, tangible, someone who’d looked him in the eye and, apparently, earned his hatred for more than being born into a family his despised.

The realisation landed like a gut punch. I wanted to ask how. I wanted to yell at him. But more than anything, I wanted to hurt him for daring to speak her nickname like that—like it meant something ugly. Like he had the right.

Bells was what people who cared about her called her. Not people like him .

My pulse roared in my ears as my vision blurred, and I forced myself to blink, to breathe, to remember where I was.

Mors Academy.

Bathroom.

No magic.

Just teeth and fury.

But Alessandro knew Bells. Not just her legacy as the last victim of the Salem serial killer, who’d brutally murdered thirteen victims and then disappeared the night my sister died.

He knew her . How did I move on from that snippet of information?

How did I pretend not to be confused that my twin wasn’t some myth to him?

She was real, and he’d called her a bitch .

Like he’d met her enough to form an opinion.

Like he’d hated her. Like whatever had happened between them still festered under his skin a year after her death.

It hit like a slap. Grief rose with the kind of ferocity I’d almost forgotten as I blinked hard, trying not to show how much that single sentence had gutted me.

“Do not speak about my sister.” I warned.

His large body quivered with the telltale signs of his urge to shift, and as he was close enough, I could smell the smokiness of the fire pulsing along his skin. He leant down, oblivious to my inner meltdown.

“You think you’re untouchable. That your magic and your surname make you special.” He stepped closer. “But I disagree. I think it makes you deadly. I think it makes you dangerous, just like my father said.”

Despite the tremors in my hands, I laughed darkly. “You got one thing right, Fiore .”

My fingers curled slowly around the razor blade I’d been reaching for. The one that was just a handle with a deadly sharp blade on the edge.

“Stay out of my way,” he hissed. “I won’t ask nicely again.”

He shoved me back and stepped away. Clearly thinking he had the upper hand in the conversation, or that even without magic I was useless at defending myself.

Or that I wasn’t fuelled by petty vengeance, spite, and a deep hatred of men who pushed around women.

I yanked the blade free and slashed it across his cheek, just beneath the eye—not close enough to blind him, but close enough to hurt.

I’d missed his eye on purpose. A calculated strike, meant to sting more than just skin.

But the threat was there all the same as blood sprayed with a wet hiss, speckling my lips.

I licked them clean, savouring the sharp, coppery taste of his pain as he stumbled back, hissing through his teeth.

Then I grinned, but it was not friendly. “From now on, I’m going out of my way to ruin your life. Consider me your personal fucking plague.”

Then I barged right past him and stormed out of the bathroom, forgetting entirely whatever it was I wanted to ask Maya and Zayden or that they were now back in the room waiting for me.

Purely because I had breakfast to get to, a school to get to know.

And a shifter cunt’s slow and torturous death to plot.

At least, I did until I saw a fresh set of headless roses on my bed. Thorns glistening with dewdrops, my missing necklace gently wrapped around them like a ribbon.

And a folded-up note in a rather confused Zayden’s hand.