Page 27 of To Dwell in Shadows (Shadows of Aurelia #2)

A fter her humiliating meal with the Council of Legions, Selene had kept a low profile at royal events.

She hadn’t even been present when King Asmodeus announced the upcoming competitions to select a royal champion—and for that, she was grateful.

He’d made the declaration during a public sparring match between demons of Brutality, and the bloodthirsty cheers alone would have haunted her for days.

The first trial was named Infernal Combat, and while Sam seemed to think it would be a piece of cake, the thought of watching him compete—getting beaten, tortured, or subjected to who knows what kind of indignities—was agonizing.

Sam had been making a conscious effort to spend more time with her, and walking her to the kennels each day had become part of their new routine.

That morning, they’d talked about the first trial, and he’d told her she didn’t have to watch it.

She could stay curled up with a book in their chambers.

Or, if she preferred, Prickles could deliver regular updates so she’d know what was happening without having to witness it firsthand.

But Selene wouldn’t hear of it. Even if she ended up watching the whole thing through her fingers, she was going to be there for Sam.

When they got to the kennels, they found that Ogrin had taken all the dogs out for a training run. Selene felt a pang of disappointment, but after kissing Sam goodbye for the day, she decided to make the most of her time in the library and get more work done.

A few minutes of walking brought her to the library’s arched doors. But as she jogged down the short staircase leading to the entrance, she nearly collided with a spirit. Its wispy paleness stood out starkly in the dark alcove where it hovered.

Selene stepped back, a chill of fear washing over her at being so close to an actual ghost. It seemed oblivious to her presence, and she hurried to enter the library, leaving the spirit to its own business.

But when the ghost suddenly began slamming itself against the wall, Selene couldn’t look away.

She watched as it floated back, then hurled itself forward with breathtaking force to collide with the stone wall. Then the spirit did it again. And again. Over and over, relentless and mechanical, as if trapped in a loop.

The figure appeared to be a woman, dressed in a 1920s-style drop-waist dress. Her mouth was stretched wide in a silent scream, her agony almost palpable. Selene watched, transfixed, as the ghost repeated the ritual. She wondered what had prompted such desperation.

Each collision became more forceful. More tortured. The impact didn’t make a sound, but it made Selene flinch each time.

Finally, she couldn’t bear it. She held up her palms and said, “Stop it, stop it! Please!”

Instantly, the spirit paused, just before she made contact with the wall. Slowly, she turned her face toward Selene and blinked. It was dark in the alcove, but the confusion on her faint features was clear. When they locked eyes, a voice rang out in Selene’s mind.

I can hear you.

The words sounded faraway, like an old gramophone recording, but the diction was clear. The disorienting sensation made Selene take an unsteady step back. Just as she was about to question if she had actually heard anything, the voice came again:

Can you hear me?

Hello? Miss?

Once again, the words echoed in Selene’s mind, bypassing her ears entirely.

She nodded earnestly, rubbing her arms to chase away the goosebumps prickling her skin. Concentrating on the strange presence before her, she deliberately formed the thought: Yes, can you hear me? Then she mentally pushed the words outward, projecting them with just the force of her mind.

But the spirit didn’t react. She continued to look at Selene with an achingly hopeful expression. Selene tried again, practically shouting the words in her thoughts: Can you hear me?

Still nothing.

Selene took a tentative step closer to try a different approach.

“Can you hear me?” she asked aloud, her words slicing through the silence between them.

Both watched as a thin tendril of shadow curled out from Selene’s mouth, then darted toward the spirit. It spiraled around the ghost’s head, then her face brightened.

Selene saw the spirit’s lips move, and another shadow zipped from her mouth to toward Selene.

The words— Yes! I hear you! —echoed clearly in her mind.

She gasped, realizing the shadows were carrying their words back and forth.

“Do you need help?” Selene asked.

The spirit nodded, clutching her hands against her thin chest.

I can’t escape.

“How long have you been here?”

I don’t know.

“What’s your name?”

Ruth .

“I’m Selene.”

I'm most grateful you can hear me.

“Do you know when you passed?”

Ruth looked puzzled, so Selene repeated herself. When Ruth still didn’t answer, Selene asked, “What year were you born?

1901.

Selene tried to keep her expression neutral, even though it was painful to consider how long Ruth had been trapped here.

Where am I? I need to go home.

Dread twisted Selene’s stomach as she realized the truth of Ruth’s situation. She wet her lips, searching for the gentlest way to say what needed to be said. But there was really no way to soften it.

Carefully, she said, “Ruth… do you know that you’ve died?”

Ruth’s misty form jerked with surprise.

Died?

“Yes. This place you’re in? It’s the Underworld.”

Ruth floated in silence for several moments. The way her features morphed from confusion into anguish was heartbreaking to see.

“I think you’re supposed to be somewhere else,” Selene said gently.

Ruth began to hover back and forth, as though pacing in midair.

Sometimes I’m here, and sometimes I’m in a place that looks like my house… but it’s different. I remember getting sick but then ? —

Ruth covered her face with transparent hands. Her form quivered as silent sobs wracked her body.

I thought I was having a nightmare.

“I’m so sorry,” Selene said, swallowing hard. “You must have gotten lost along the way.”

I died. I am dead.

Ruth sobbed then dropped her hands from her tear-streaked face to peer at Selene .

But you’re not ?

“No,” Selene said tentatively. How to explain the complexities of being a demon’s mate? “I’m alive, but I’m… different.”

Ruth began to cry again.

I want to go home.

“I understand. I don’t know how it works here, but I can find someone to help you cross over,” Selene said, glancing around helplessly, as if the answer might reveal itself.

That upset Ruth even more. She shook her head fiercely, her eyes wide.

No, no! I want to go back to the home I grew up in. Not… whatever comes next.

She turned away, as if ashamed. Wisps of hair that had slipped free from the chignon at the nape of her neck floated around her bowed head.

I’m not ready.

“Why not?”

Silence filled the hallway for so long, Selene wondered if her ability to hear Ruth had faltered. She held her breath, waiting. Then at last came the fragile, trembling words:

I’m frightened.

Selene sighed, wishing she could hug her. Even in death, she realized, it was easier to cling to familiar pain than to face the uncertainty of the unknown. It was a feeling Selene knew all too well.

Words of encouragement danced on the tip of her tongue. She was about to tell Ruth she was stronger than she knew, that she deserved more than existing in this half-life of sorrow. She wanted to urge Ruth to have courage and promise that what lay beyond wasn’t as terrifying as she feared.

But she held back.

Because Selene remembered what it was like to be stuck.

When she was in Ruth’s place, no amount of wisdom or well-meaning advice would have pulled her out of her own toxic patterns.

The life of obligation and self-sacrifice that she had built was suffocating, but also safe.

By constantly meeting the needs of others, she had maintained a false sense of control over them.

And by not setting her own goals, she had shielded herself from the sting of failure.

Letting go of all that hadn’t come from someone else’s words. It had been a choice she had to make alone.

“All right, Ruth. You don’t have to go now,” Selene said.

Ruth’s ghostly form wavered at the edges, as if she trembled with relief.

“But when you’re ready, come find me.”