There’s no doubt in his tone, and its coldness sends a chill creeping down my spine. I glance around, straining to see through the murky shadows. The faint light from above doesn’t reach far and there’s not enough of it to make out anything, and for a moment I think the asshole is fucking around with me, or trying to teach me some sort of lesson.
A low, guttural growl cuts me off, reverberating through the pit like a physical force. The sound is inhuman, primal, and so close that it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Whatever made it moves, and I catch its form shift in the darkness just at the edge of my vision.
“Stay still,” Kade orders.
A flicker of red, faint and glowing like embers, diffuses through the shadows and I shudder again. The growl comes again, deeper this time, and closer. More threatening too, with the promise of violence and a horrific death thrown in on top of the already terrifying sound.
“Shit,” I mutter, pressing myself against the cold, damp pit wall.
My heart pounds in my chest as the shadows shift, pulling together into a hulking form. Its body is an amalgamation of horrors—thick, matted fur like ash-covered moss, skeletal wings that scrape against the walls, and claws as long as daggers glinting faintly in the dim light. Two smoldering red eyes lock onto mine, burning with a predator’s malice.
“Kade,” I hiss, panic clawing at my voice. “What the hell is this thing?”
“Stay calm.” His voice is steady, but I can hear the tension beneath it. “That’s a Morruvak. Old and powerful magic that predates even the Council.”
The Morruvak’s tail lashes, sending pebbles skittering. It lowers itself onto four twisted legs, muscles coiling as it prepares to lunge. I freeze with fear, still unable to draw on my magic and Kade leaps before I even think about telling him not to. His landing sends shockwaves of dust through the pit and awe through my soul, as he doesn’t hesitate to lash out at the Morruvak. The creature swivels toward him with a roar, but Kade moves like the darkness itself, sidestepping its claws and slashing at its side.
Black, oily blood sprays onto the ground, hissing like acid where it lands and the creature howls, its wings flaring wide. It sweeps at Kade with its tail, but he ducks under it, spinning to drive his dagger into its exposed belly. The Morruvak screeches, its wings beating violently as it rears back, towering over him.
“Kade!” I shout.
“Stay behind me,” he barks, dodging again as the monster’s claws rake through the space where he stood. He pivots, slashing at its legs, forcing it lower.
The creature lunges again, and Kade meets it head-on, his movements swift and precise. The clash of steel against flesh echoes through the pit, each strike sending sparks of magic crackling through the air. The Morruvak stumbles, snarling, but Kade doesn’t hesitate. He leaps onto its back, plunging his dagger deep into the base of its skull. The creature convulses, its screech cut off abruptly as it collapses to the ground in a heap of twitching limbs.
Kade dismounts, yanking his blade free. His chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, and he turns to me, his expression grim.
“Still alive?” he asks, wiping the blade on his trousers.
I nod and his eyebrow arches. “Thanks.”
Kade’s head tilts and for a split second starlight bursts through his irises. “You’re most welcome, Zara.”
He curls his finger and I stumble over, stopping when I’m close enough to rest my head against his chest. His arms wrap around me and I lean against him, letting the silence press us together. I move with the rising and falling of his chest and I’m surprised when his fingers stroke my hair, his touch strangely delicate and soothing in this accursed place.
“This place is awful,” I sigh.
“This isn’t the half of it,” Kade replies. “This trap was meant for you, kitten. But we’ll be a damn sight safer and much more comfortable if we get to that fucking tavern, and I think I have enough magic in me to take us both there.”
His hold tightens and I don’t fight it. I could, but I don’t want to, and I don’t know what that means anymore. Just as I no longer know what any of this means.
“We’ll get you nice and warm, and you can even take a ridiculously long hot bath before bed.”
Kade almost sounds relieved at the thought of me indulging myself, and I almost want it.
“We will share a room, Zara. The blood weave won’t allow for us to be apart.”
I nod and he exhales again.
The world fades around me as the air thickens, swirling in subtle patterns and the space outside us bends. It folds and a pulse spreads through the structure of everything, making the layers of reality shift. The veil between places thins and reorders itself, realigning in a way I haven’t experienced before and I feel gravity pull at the threads of my sense, making the earth beneath me both distant and present.
I glimpse the world’s design and see its fractured fluidity. There’s a lattice of power and will that endlessly shifts like the bones of a living creature. The structure is familiar but strange, comforting, but unlike any weave of magic I’ve seen or known.
The world shifts on its axis, and it shifts because he made it move.
And Kade made it move for me.
