Page 36 of A Vow of Shadows

I cleared my throat and searched the shadows for the living ones. “Do you mind waiting outside?”

Two forms detached from the wall to my right. They glided by in a rush, ruffling my hair as they passed, and slipped through the crack beneath the door.

My gown slipped to the floor, followed swiftly by my petticoat. I made quick work of undoing my stays and finally pulled my shift over my head.

Fully nude, I walked over to the large mirror that hung on the wall. I ignored the state of my hair, assessing my mark for any places it may have expanded in the days since I’d checked it. While it hadn’t disappeared upon my bargain with the Ferrier, I had hoped that being here would at least halt its progress across my body. Looking now, it would seem that hope was also in vain. New shadows stretched across my abdomen, snaking up toward my breasts. My fingers touched the mark, but, as always, it felt no different than the unmarred places of my body, which were becoming fewer and fewer.

A tear traced down my shadowed cheek. I swallowed past the lump in my throat and balled my hands into fists, wishing I had the power to rival this King Behryn.

I’d intended to bathe quickly and be done with it, but the soothing warm water had other plans. By the time I pulled the plug to drain the tub, the sun had set. I dried, dressed, and plaited my wet hair back before stepping into the hall.

There was no sign of the Ferrier. With nothing better to do, I decided to head back to the library. Perhaps I’d be able to uncover more clues without the fog of exhaustion hanging over me.

A chill skittered over me, and I knew without looking back that my two shadow guards flanked me. I pivoted to face them but continued walking backwards.

“Do you have names?” I asked the shadows. It was foolish, but I was tired of referring to them as simply shadows. I wanted to differentiatemyshadows from the rest of the Ferrier’s gloom.

The shadows, being shadows, said nothing in return.

Squinting, I glanced back and forth between the two, seeking any defining characteristic that set one apart from the other. They weren’t identical, but their constantly morphing forms made it difficult to pinpoint the differences.

The one on the right appeared smaller and less dense while the left one was larger but more opaque. The left rolled like a thundercloud, but the other spilled like water down the hall.

“I will call you Storm,” I told the left shadow then turned to the right. “And you, Inky.”

Inky and Storm seemed to swell with pride at their new monikers. I smiled, feeling like I’d finally accomplished something after days of sitting on my arse.

“Have you always possessed a preoccupation with names?”

I realized too late that the Ferrier’s deep, rich voice sounded from behind me. Colliding with him felt like hitting a wall, and he made no move to catch me as I stumbled. I recovered swiftly, crossing my arms and glaring at him as my mind fought to latch onto the words he’d said.

“I’ll have you know that it is perfectly normal to wish for something to call those around you. What is strange is refusing to give your name to someone who lives in your house and with whom you have a magical contract.” I raised my brows, daring him to respond.

One corner of his mouth tipped up, and I counted that as a point in my favor.

I looked away from his face, noticing the pitch-black robes for the first time. “You’re leaving?”

“The dead do not collect themselves, Miss Fil’Owen.”

“Might I accompany you?” Another night alone in the manor was the last thing I wanted.

“No.” He turned away, stalking down the hall.

I hurried after him, taking two steps to keep up with each of his. “Please, I’ll—”

“No.”

“What if I hide in the carriage without you knowing?” Though I dreaded meeting another dead soul, two days into my stay I was already restless.

“Your guards would inform me.”

We’d arrived in the main foyer, and I collapsed onto a nearby chair. “You mean my captors?”

This drew the Ferrier up short. He turned, giving me his full attention. “You are not a prisoner here. I have sworn to keep you from Death. Right now, the safest place for you to be is here. If you’ve reconsidered your choice to avoid him,” he pointed to the grim world beyond the window, “the gates are always open. You need only walk until the fog clears.”

“Truly?” I locked that knowledge away lest I need it someday in the future.

“Thinking of quitting after only a week?”