Page 3 of Shadowman

“Well, I’m #62,” I tell him in a bored tone, though the way his intense violet gaze is zeroed in on my face brings an inexplicable need to fidget. “If that gives you an idea.”

His head tilts curiously. “That must be a couple of years, then? At least?”

I nod again, pulse picking up, because his accent reminds me of someone… Someone who meant a great deal to me.

I don’t like it.

Trevel isn’t put off by my surly silence. He lets out an exhale, unusual eyes drifting over to Luthor and Ren. “Those are your mates?”

I swallow hard. “Yes.”

Pursing his lips, he offers a curt bob of his head. “I hope I haven’t offended them somehow. The dark-haired one seemedto think I was up to no good when we met. Though, I can’t say it’s the first time someone’s assumed that about me at first glance.”

His shoulders move subtly, a rumbly noise coming from his throat. A very modest chuckle, like mine.

“That’s just Ren. It’s how he is. He’s crazy protective…” My voice trails before I add, “Of Luthor.”

Trevel shifts his gaze back to me, cocking a dark brow. “Only him?” My lips part, but he goes on, “I recall him moving you away from me as well…”

I can’t help the scoff that puffs out of me. “Oh, yea. He’ll definitely act like he’s being a loyal friend. But really, he’s just trying to control everything.”

And manipulate me.

“You don’t strike me as the type to be controlled,” Trevel says, almost curiously.

The comment makes me feel strange, but I push past it and remember myself. “I’m not,” I grunt, catching a brief twitch of his lips. “But he bosses me around like I’m just some lovable sidekick. And yet when it comes to standing up for our friend who wasmurdered, he shrugs it off.”

Shaking my head, I feel the palpable rise of heated anger in my veins when thinking about what happened to my cellmate… Beforeandafter his death.

Trevel’s forehead lines, orbs of deep purple cast down at me. “Your friend was murdered?”

“Yea,” I sigh. “By this preppy little shithead who calls himselfThe Carver. And now myfriendsare befriending the psycho. Inviting him to sit with us and shit, like it didn’t even fucking happen. Totally spitting on our friend’s grave.”

This little tangent is spewing out on its own, but I barely even care. Because now that I’m saying the words out loud again, I’m fuming on behalf of Kieran O’Malley, someone who meant a lot to me.Clearly, a lot more than he meant to Ren.

Something in Trevel’s face has shifted. His already severe features have gone dark, a bit of mayhem in his eyes. It’s pretty alarming.

But before I can try to inch away from it, he reaches out and places a hand on my shoulder. I flinch, startled by his touch. But he keeps it intact and leans in closer.

“Loyalty is everything,” he whispers. Chills sheet my flesh. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

Frozen, I stare up at him, forcing myself to croak, “Thank you.”

Trevel’s chin dips, lips moving too close to my ear. “You might like the taste of revenge.” Warm breath brushes my skin, and my teeth set, gut flipping upside down. “I know I do. It’s quite…sweet. Like honey.”

My throat is so dry I can barely gulp as his hand sweeps off my shoulder, grazing down my back before it leaves my body. I only have one full second to stammer until the guards bark that it’s about time to leave. My eyes flick toward them, and when they return to Trevel, he’s already walking away.

What the hell was that?

My mind is cycling through his words as Luthor and Ren walk over to me. Confusion traces the fingerprints I can still feel on my shoulder.

We leave the cafeteria. And it’s as we’re walking that my gaze also wanders… cautiously to the mysterious stranger with the violet eyes. I’m unable to rid myself of this sensation, one I haven’t felt in a very long time.

He can actually see me, can’t he?

A fellow man in the shadows, perhaps.

3 months earlier…