“Oh, but you are, Wren Loughty. You will sever the link. Cleanse the threads of corruption. Because the Soulless One demands it.” When she spoke next, her voice was not her own. It was dark, distorted…like rusted nails scraping against Wren’s skin.“Because it is written.”
Wren wanted to scream. The voice that slipped out of Edith’s mouth felt like poison dripping into her ears, a shooting pain blossoming at the base of her spine. She was tired of hearing about the damn prophecy. Of being told there was nothing she could do to stop what had been written.Screwthe prophecy. Wren was nobody’s pawn. Her body might be under Edith’s curse, but her mind and her soul were entirely her own. But before Wren could even open her mouth to retort, a jumble of noise echoed from beyond the tent, stealing their attention.
Edith blinked, the whites of her eyes returning. She whipped her head around, listening intently. It was a muffled commotion; the voices in the distance rose, a chorus of shouts and mumbled words of confusion.
“Come with me,” Edith commanded, her voice back to its normal rasp. “And don’t try anything—not that it would work, anyway.”
With a jolt, Wren rose from the chair, her limbs moving with rigid precision as she followed Edith out of the tent. She winced,frustration welling in her chest. Edith was right. Even if Wren wanted to attempt an escape, her efforts would be futile.
Wren glared down at the silver band fused around her wrist.
It had appeared the first morning, right when Wren had awoken after her initial round of torture.A security cuff, according to Edith. Forged by the metalworkers in the encampment, the metal cuff was imbued with magic that prevented Wren from crossing the perimeter of the Demien Order encampment.
As Wren walked out of the tent and exited the dark tunnel that led to the heart of the cavern, she stumbled upon a chaotic scene. A crowd had formed, a congregation of Demiens staring at something emerging from the other side of the cavern. Wren craned her neck, desperate to get a better look, but her vision was blocked by the dozens upon dozens of Demiens crammed into the space around her.
But then the crowd shifted…and a figure emerged.
Tall, broad shoulders cloaked in shadows. Dark, disheveled curls. Eyes forged from steel and ice.
The realization hit her like a shotgun straight to the heart.
It’s him.
August stepped forward, parting the crowd with nothing but his presence, his steps slow and methodical. And despite what had happened to her, despite the torture and pain and confusion, Wren couldn’t help but break out into a smile.
Ever since she’d been taken to the Demien Order, Wren had tried desperately to push August out of her mind. To pretend he had never even existed. But still…the memory of him had haunted her.
The past few weeks had been agonizing. Every time she was alone, every time she closed her eyes…there she was—back in the Ether. The image of August crawling to her, writhing in pain,screaming, was seared into her memory. She could still hear the truth he had struggled to tell her through bouts of pain: how he had been assigned to get close to her, how their entire relationship, from the very beginning, had been carefully orchestrated by the Demien Order.
And now he was here.
But he wasn’t alone.
Shadows.
As August stalked forward, a halo of shadows trailed after him, clinging to him like hungry parasites. They traveled up and down his limbs, coating the very ground he walked on. His white shirt was partially unbuttoned, torn and shredded, that same ravenous darkness running beneath his skin, a steady stream of shadows slinking up and down his veins.
No.
Wren’s smile fell.
Whatever brief joy she had felt at seeing him again was immediately squashed by the sight of him shrouded in shadows. Because if August could access shadow magic, that could only mean one thing.
Wren sucked in a breath.
He’s given up his humanity.
“Augustine,” Edith called out to her brother, her voice eerily steady given the circumstances. “I had assumed you’d succumbed to your cowardice after our last encounter, but showing uphere? With no protection? No army?” She motioned to one of the shadows curled around August’s arm, a tight-lipped smile on her face. “And with some new friends, I see.”
“What can I say?” August lifted his hand, a shadow swirling against his palm. “I like to make an entrance.”
“That you do.” Edith stepped forward, angling herself in frontof Wren. It wasn’t so much a stance of protection as that of a greedy child unwilling to share her toys. “Now…perhaps you don’t mind explaining what thehellyou’re doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious, sister?” August stretched out his hand and a shadow sprang from his fingertips without warning, instantly coiling itself around Edith’s crown. He snapped his fingers and the shadow came flying back like a boomerang, tossing the crown straight into his hand. He caught it with ease, twirling the crown between his fingers as his lips curled into a smirk.
His eyes trailed to Wren, a wickedness in his stare.
A darkness.
