Page 48 of The Queen’s Shadow

“I’m sorry, was that a chirp, Pops?” Rycon snorted, looking up just as he was about to take a massive bite out of a slice. I could have sworn Jeremy’s eyes crinkled at the corners. I must have been imagining it, though, because I blinked, and he had his stony cop face back on.

“It’s not my fault you make it so easy.” He grumbled, turning his attention to his own plate, and dismissing Rycon, who just chuckled.

Cerenah and I exchanged an amused look, and she climbed into the pit to get a slice for herself. I watched her eyes fill with excitement as she took in all the different options available to her, realizing that she could choose whichever slice she wanted. She had a choice.

She looked back up at me, her eyes shining.

“Thank you.” She said, and I smiled at her.

“Of course.”

After we ate, I showed Rycon the shadowstone weapons Kael had given me. His eyes lit up and he immediately took the dagger. I knew he would go for the dagger, and I was honestly glad. I wanted to give Conrad the rapier. I was hoping he would get a chance to stab The Siren with it. Poetic justice and all that.

Rycon deftly flipped it back and forth in his hand from blade to hilt, as if testing the balance, before running his thumb along the edge to check for sharpness. I could tell he was pleased with it by the evil little smirk that curled across his face, before he shoved it into his boot.

I handed the matte black boxes with the restructium suits in them to Jeremy and Cerenah next.

“If you’re coming with us to The Court of Greed, I want you to be wearing armor.” I explained. They exchanged a look with each other before nodding.

“Put them on now but wear your street clothes over it so as to not attract attention.” I said. I eyed Cerenah and Jeremy’s outfits up and down. The style of the pants and shirts were a little off, but nothing that would turn heads like a full plated close fit black suit. People would surely think comic con had come to town if we all showed up dripping in weapons and restructium armor.

“Have you worn restructium before Cerenah? Do you know how to put it on?” I asked, and she nodded.

“A very long time ago, when I was a young daemon. But yes, I think I remember.” I looked at Jeremy.

“Do you want help? It’s a little tricky the first time.” I asked and he shook his head, giving me a ‘don’t insult me’ look and I almost laughed.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine, Raven.”

“Okay, okay, just had to ask. I said, putting up my hands before heading off to my room to get changed.

Raven

Iwalked into my trashed room and my heart twinged. The bed in which Amon and I had solidified our mating bond had been destroyed. The carcasses of shredded books littered the floor and all the furniture had been torn apart.

I tried not to see the symbolism in the fact that the room we had first come together in was in shambles as I picked my way through the mess and into the adjoining bathroom. I grabbed my restructium armor off the hook on the door and made sure to fill my arms with clothing from the busted up armoire to take with me back to my old room.

I didn’t know how to magick away the mess or repair things, and it hurt too much to see this. I didn’t want to come back in here.

I made it back to my old room and dropped the clothes on one of the chairs that sat by the small table in the center of the room before peeling off my sweater.

I gasped suddenly, as Amon’s consciousness flooded my mind. The velvet feel of him ran through my entire body and my skin immediately erupted in goosebumps. My mating stone warmed against my neck and I was suddenly enveloped in the warm scent of cinnamon.

‘Raven.’

I closed my eyes as his voice whispered through my mind. I took a shaky breath as I felt him run his magick through me, leaving little starburst kisses across my consciousness.

“Amon, I didn’t know, I didn’t know if you…”

My throat grew tight and my arms ached to hold him. I buried my face in my hands and fell to my knees. I did everything I could to stave off the sobs that threatened to take me over again.

I was so sick of crying.

‘Shhh, don’t cry. I’m here. Please don’t cry. I’m okay. See? I’m fine.’ He lied.

“You’re not fine. Your hands… and she… she…” I couldn’t say it. I felt so weak for not being able to say it out loud, when he had been forced to live it.

‘Listen to me, my love. I’m fine. They are just fingernails, they will grow back. As for the rest of it, it is nothing she has not done to me before. It means nothing to me.’