Page 10 of A Touch of Shadows

It sounded like something from his earliest memories, something from the shadows of his childhood. Before they turned to nightmares.

Whitethorn rose in front of him, in full bloom, its sharp thorns like a barrier. But when he reached out his hands, the branches seemed to fold back. Beyond that he saw elder trees and they pressed close, their long branches sweeping against him. Willow trailed through his hair, tugging it loose from where he had tied it, tangling in it.

Come deeper, the voice sang. A voice unlike anything he’d ever heard. Come deeper, beloved. We’ve been waiting such a long time for you.

He followed the sound, the music, the voice. It sang to him, stealing his thoughts even as they tried to form.

This was wrong. He knew this couldn’t be real. But the moment the thought came, it seemed to melt away, smothered in the strange music and the shadows that thronged underneath, tangling around his feet and legs, winding up around his body.

He fell back into the embrace of the darkness, and felt the caresses engulf him. There was only pleasure, only the music and the song, and that bewitching voice.

He was back in Sidonia, in the labyrinthine palace complex, his mother singing to him. He was safe. He’d never heard of Asteroth or the war the royal family had unleashed. There was no black blade at his throat, no laughter from his brothers, no feeling of ice creeping into his skin as he was laid out in the chamber of sacrifice and?—

And the enemy had yet to arrive at their gates.

He struggled to free himself. This wasn’t right. This was an enchantment. It had to be.

A soft laugh caused a ripple over his body, stilling him, stealing his wits again.

Are you trying to fight? Poor boy, why do that? It’s over anyway. This is the end. Give up now. The Nox is coming. She’s the one you’ve been waiting for, dreaming of. Give yourself to her. It’s inevitable. No one can escape their fate.

Who? Who did it mean?

There she was, the dark goddess to whom he had been promised. Waiting for him. Meant for him. Just as he was meant for her. Helpless before her. Her creature, her chosen, made to live for her, and to die for her. He had no other choice.

She bent over him, her long midnight hair like a veil around her moonlight skin. Her eyes, so dark and endless, holes into the otherworld, into the darkness of Nox itself. His goddess smiled, smiled at him, and he found his mouth mirroring the expression. Because he knew her as well. She had haunted his dreams and his nightmares, always there, always waiting.

He’d thought he had cheated fate. But here she was.

In the darkest part of the darkest forest.

His body responded, even while his mind continued its futile struggle. He might as well embrace the inevitable.

His Lady carried with her the scent of night flowering jasmine. It wrapped itself around him and drugged his senses. Some distant part of him said this was wrong, that this was not real, some part that could feel the insidious touch of darkness winding its way around his helpless body, dragging him through the forest, through the undergrowth, locking him tighter and tighter in an enchantment even as it pulled him into its stronghold.

But the rest of him didn’t care. How could he care? This was meant to be. This had always been meant to be.

Don’t be afraid, the Nox incarnate whispered. But he wasn’t. There was no fear left in him now. Whatever his father had done to him, whatever his brothers had planned, whatever the threats and the sense of dread when he had first set foot in Asteroth a hostage and a prisoner from a lost war not of his making?—

It was all past. It was all gone. There was only her. His dark queen. A goddess of shadows thought long lost. And he was hers.

Just as it was always meant to be.

CHAPTER 6

FINN

The shadows lifted him, carried him, stretched him out. They winnowed their way through his clothes to the skin beneath. Finn gasped at the touch, cold and insistent, determined, and so frighteningly gentle.

The touch of the Nox. She was the Nox embodied in flesh, and she had come for him at last. Claimed him as she always meant to. He was hers through and through, her creature, her fated sacrifice. Hers…

She bound him with tangled vines made of shadow and stretched him out before her. And soon there would be a blade and blood and it was all he wanted.

Pleasure built up inside him, unbearable, ungovernable. It surged with his blood, the blood that rushed along his veins and sang out for her blade as well as her kiss. She was everything.

He’d been a fool to think swearing himself to her enemy, to the Aurum, would make a difference. He’d never belonged in Asteroth. Every vow had been a lie, every promise, every hope. Just as every guarantee Grandmaster de Silvius had made to him – every time he’d assured a terrified boy of his safety and promised to make him strong, to make him a holy warrior of the light who would drive away any lingering shadows – had been nothing but falsehoods. Just lies crafted from the vain and foolish hopes of a child.

Finn knew himself, knew what he was. Here now, spread out, helpless before her, bound with shadows and held in darkness, awaiting the end and the wild pleasure of her touch as she slowly destroyed him. Shadow kin clustered around him, waiting, laughing, hungry.