Page 9

THIRTEEN YEARS OLD

I had packed my bags to go to Akra, and never wanted to look back.

I was ready to train full time in the king’s army, and knew I would climb the ranks quickly.

I was skilled with the dagger and sword, and even the bow and arrow.

But most importantly I was a skilled shifter, and my shadow magic was becoming stronger and stronger every day.

The final item I packed away for my trip was the Grishina grimoire. It was a part of me now, and under no circumstances would I leave it behind. I had never gotten to see the Kotova grimoire when Annelise had returned, but I knew it lingered somewhere in the cottage.

Despite it not choosing me, I could scent the hum of its energy. Kotova blood ran through my veins, after all.

Zion and Annelise had allowed me to go on my own. After years of traveling there each month to train, I knew the way. And I wasn’t afraid of passing through The Shadow.

No.

The Shadow should be afraid of me.

I dared anyone to stand against my magic at this point.

I was so powerful, drunk on the feeling, dark magic pulsing through my blood.

I needed more and more black magic to fill the high, which wasn’t a concern of mine.

Annelise might have been right…my humanity was slipping away little by little, but I delighted in it.

Soon I wouldn’t be hurt any longer.

I would be hardened to it.

Emotions were too fickle, anyway. If I wanted to rule the kingdom, they would only get in the way. I needed to stay focused on the bigger picture. Stay focused on my magic.

As I traveled past the docks of Prins and toward The Shadow I sensed I was being followed.

I could feel eyes on me…it was a sensation I couldn’t quite explain.

The sun was setting and I would have to make camp on the other side of The Shadow.

Or find an Inn to stay at for the night to rest. I needed to lose this tail, whoever was stupid enough to be following me.

As I descended the steps into The Shadow and passed through the empty streets, whoever it was gained on me. Closing the distance between us. They were drawing closer and closer, not wanting to lose sight of me in the narrow alleys and twisting streets here, but not close enough to be seen.

I increased my pace.

I wasn’t necessarily worried about who it was that was following me, only that I wasn’t in the mood for a confrontation at the moment.

I was tired. Tired from the journey. Tired of my parents. Tired of everything .

By the time I had reached the top of The Shadow steps I was beyond annoyed. I picked up my pace through Prins, vowing to stop for the night once I had made it into Akra.

I picked up a brisk walk toward the plains that led to The Stone City when I sensed whoever it was following me draw even closer.

Close enough that I could scent their magic.

Feel their darkness. I stopped short, turning.

I hadn’t realized exactly how close they were, and the figure reached out quickly and grasped my pack.

I flew back with it. To avoid being dragged to the dirt, I let the pack slip from my shoulders.

“What the hell?”

When my gaze settled on the figure clutching the pack to their chest, a spark of recognition shocked my core.

“Persephone?”

I hadn’t seen the woman before me in years . Since Cirilla and I had traveled to her worn down house in Prins with the Grishina grimoire…and resurrected Emil with necromancy. Turning him into a Noctani, a blood drinking monster.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

I cocked my head to the side as I watched her. She didn’t move. Her black, endless eyes were trained on me. The pack was pressed tightly to her chest. Her hair was unkempt, falling out of the messy braid that fell down her back.

She didn’t answer.

“Persephone?” I took a step closer, and as if she were a frightened animal she took a step back.

“Stay away from me,” she hissed.

My brows drew together in confusion. She had been the one following me . I took a step back in surprise. Was she…afraid of me?

A long silence fell between us as we held each other’s gazes.

“Persephone, give me the pack—” I moved to step toward her again, but she stepped back once more with a hiss.

“I can’t let you have it.”

“Have what?” I asked, the words slow and measured as they left my mouth.

“The book,” she answered through clenched teeth.

The Grishina grimoire.

Of course…she had come for the grimoire. She was the only other person who knew I had it besides Cirilla, who was dead. What did she want with the book?

“What do you need it for?” I asked, inclining my head toward her, curious.

“I don’t need it,” she replied. As if the answer were obvious.

My brows drew together in confusion once more. “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t need it for myself ,” she ground out, pressing the pack even tighter against her chest. “But I can’t let you have it, either.”

“Why not?” I took a step forward, and she stepped back.

It became a slow dance between us.

Persephone wasn’t nearly as strong as me.

If she were, they never would have needed to bring me that day in order to perform the necromancy spell.

Though, I did suspect they needed someone with an untainted heart to perform that particular spell.

Back then, I hadn’t yet known the thrill of the dark magic pulsing through my veins.

She stood no chance against me now—she had to have known that.

I suspected if her eyes weren’t black and depthless I might see fear in them.

“I need you to give me the pack, Persephone.” I spoke the words slowly. Measured. As if not to scare her further.

I allowed my magic to simmer to the surface, snaking out toward her in the form of dark shadows beneath the moon. We were in the middle of nowhere. There wasn’t another house or building for at least a mile, we were protected by the silence of the empty plains here.

The trees would be my only witness.

I couldn’t let her steal the book from me. I wouldn’t . I needed it. What would happen to me if I didn’t have it anymore? Couldn’t feed the angry animal that had been awoken inside of me with dark magic?

She slipped her hand into the pack and I took another step forward, my hand outstretched.

“You don’t want to do that,” I warned.

Her hands found the leather binding of the grimoire and she tugged it free, allowing the pack to fall to the dirt beneath us.

“ Can’t let you have it, can’t let you have it ,” she murmured quickly under her breath as she clutched the grimoire tightly against her chest.

She had dark magic, too. Didn’t she understand why it was important that I kept it? Had the dark magic driven her mad?

“Give it to me, Persephone. I won’t ask again.”

She looked much older than I expected her to be. It had only been what, three years since I had last seen her? It appeared she had aged at least another decade in that short time.

Again I pondered if that was the cost of the darkness. If so…I couldn’t allow that to happen to me. I wouldn’t. I would find a spell to keep me young. Forever.

Maybe immortal, even.

Her magic sparked at her fingertips against the book, and the edges singed from the flame.

“Persephone—” I warned, stepping closer ever so slowly.

“Perdere . Perdere . Perdere.”

She whispered the word over and over again as the magic sparked at her fingertips.

I couldn’t allow her to take the book. I lunged for her, grasping one of the arms that was secured around its leather binding. She wrenched free of my grasp with a cry, turning her back toward me.

“The book must be destroyed, the siphoning spell cannot be allowed to exist,” she said through clenched teeth. “You have not seen what I have seen. Heard what I have heard. Alastir said—” Her words were choked off by a sob.

Destroyed ? I thought she had simply meant to steal it from me.

I lunged forward, grasping her braid and wrenching her back by her hair. I clasped her shoulder in my other hand, allowing my shadows to wrap around her neck. But before I could grasp the book, she threw it into the air away from us.

It unraveled in slow motion, the book flying away from us in the darkness, her arm outstretching toward it.

“Perdere,” she whispered once more.

The book ignited.

“No!” I cried, pushing her down and leaving her in the dirt, lunging toward the Grishina grimoire. “No, no, no!” I screamed.

The book was a ball of flame, but I grasped it anyway, badly burning the palms of my hands. I ground my teeth against the pain as I brought it to me, trying my hardest to tamp down the fire.

But it was too late.

Whatever spell Persephone had invoked had taken hold, and the grimoire was reduced to ash within my grip. The tattered pages and burned leather fell to the earth beneath me, and I fell to my knees before it.

A tear tracked down my cheek and I moved to wipe it away quickly. I hadn’t even cried when Cirilla had died, why was I crying over a book?

My hands ran over the once delicate material that had been reduced to nothing and I turned slowly, still crouched on the ground. Persephone was propping herself up on one arm, watching the book burn, a smile across her lips.

“You.” My voice was cold. Unrecognizable.

As I moved to stand Persephone laughed. A fully belly laugh that had tears tracing down her dirty cheeks, leaving clean marks trailing in their path.

“How dare you.”

Anger simmered deep within my core, overtaking me. I could sense my shadows snaking out around me, the inky darkness overtaking the entire field. I inclined my head as I watched Persephone laugh, right before my shadows wove themselves around her neck.

“I had to do it,” she said.

There was no pleading tone in her voice, no desperation. She knew what would come next. She knew what needed to happen.

“I couldn’t let that spell live. It was evil .”

“Unlike everything else we have done?” I asked, incredulous. How could she draw a line there? We had surely done just as bad if not worse. She didn’t earn her obsidian eyes by idly sitting by. No…she was as guilty as I was.

“It doesn’t matter, none of it does. The Grishina grimoire is gone, and you’ll never get it back.”

I didn’t have a grimoire any longer.

The thought left an emptiness deep within my gut. In that moment, I vowed that someday I would have the Kotova grimoire. I would reap all of its spells. I knew there was dark magic in that grimoire, too. Even if it hadn’t chosen me, I could sense the energy humming within it.

Spells Annelise had hidden from me.

I would make sure the Kotova grimoire chose me as its next ward. Even if I needed to kill Annelise and every other Kotova to do it.

I scooped my pack up off the ground and turned toward The Stone Palace, pulling the bag back onto my shoulders. I tightened my shadows around Persephone’s neck as I walked away from her, into the darkness.

I didn’t turn back, even when I heard the sickening snap.

I took my third life that night.