Page 106 of The Edge of Darkness

“In exchange for more elaborative answers,” Nivelle stated.

How she’d procured the animal—or when—I didn’t want to know.

The wraith peeled her greedy gaze away from the hare for only a moment to nod her agreement and thanks to Nivelle, before her eyes shifted to solid black, and fangs broke free from her gums.

She gripped the animal with both hands and tore it in two, sinking her face into its steaming flesh. Blood and entrails spilled forth, coating her face as she devoured and slurped from the animal until it was nothing but a fur-coated husk.

What. The. Fuck.

The wraith licked her lips, then each finger, seeming to have forgotten she had an audience.

“If you’ve had your fill . . .” I growled.

She gripped the gifted blanket, using it to wipe the blood from her mouth and chin before rolling out her neck like the animal’s innards had invigorated her. “My apologies. I tend to get ill-tempered when I’m hungry.”

You don’t fucking say.

I exhaled through my nose, tempering my patience.

The wraith looked up at me, registering the harsh breath. “I prefer my food alive when I consume it.” She stood, drawing the blanket tighter around her, regaining her composure. “Your little burst of power frightened my most recent catch, and fear makes the meat rancid. But it’s no matter.” Her attention veered to the witch. “It has been made up for.”

Nivelle folded her arms over her chest, not the slightest bit perturbed with the spectacle she’d just witnessed. “Answer the questions,” was all she said.

With the dip of her chin, the wraith obeyed. “A High Lord and his companion did come here in search of answers. But as you said, times have changed.” She paused and turned her head to me. “And so too has the power that you carry, Son of Shadow.”

There it was again. That name.

Son of Shadow.

Torin’s otherworldly whisper had spoken that name in Neveshir. But the way the wraith said it sent a chill down my spine.

She stared at me like she was able to see to the fibers of my soul. “I know your power. Power over shadows and darkness. You yourself are a shadow—deep down.” Her head tilted as she regarded me. “The other lord who came here shared your blood, but the power that resurfaced in you is much stronger.”

I studied her, letting her words sink in. “You absorbed my shadow. How?”

“Wraiths are one with the shadows. On Skotos, we fed off them. They sustained us, just as meat and water are necessary for humans and fae to survive. But the shadows in our homeworld were sentient, they had purpose. Here, they are nothing more than a lack of light.”

Auren glanced at the blood-stained carcass near the wraith’s feet. “Then the animals . . .”

“Are a personal delight of our kind.” The wraith smiled, her fangs nowhere to be found.

I slid my hands into my pockets. “I find it curious that you’ve managed to survive for so long, given that the shadows in this world do not meet your requirements.”

She pursed her lips, contemplating something before stepping to the side and looking back at the pool behind her. “This water is quite the enigma. I do not know how, but its qualities have extended my life.” Something in her voice shifted, and she seemed to curl her shoulders in on herself. “I wasn’t always like this. Time has changed me. Centuries spent alone in this cave have . . . corrupted my morals.”

Nivelle seemed to understand what the wraith was and wasn’t saying. “There were other wraiths here?”

“Many. We found the caves after we landed with Torin, and fed off the lackluster shadows within them, withering away little but little over time. Then, one day, I was exploring, and I came across a small fissure in the stone, barely big enough for me to slip through. It led to a section of the cave system that no one had known existed. I followed a small stream of water that was running through it, and it brought me here.”

She walked to the water’s edge and dipped her toes in, swirling them in small circles. “When I discovered this pool, and that its waters were capable of healing and sustaining life, I kept it a secret from the others. It was my place to retreat to when I needed solitude. But one day, a friend followed me here.” Her toes halted their movement, and she withdrew her foot, settling her stare on the far side of the cavern. “She betrayed me and told the others, and a fight broke out amongst us all. They flooded this place, and I . . . I lost control.”

“You killed them?” Auren asked quietly.

“I did. It was quick, painless. But my actions haunt me, even now. Greed often runs rampant in our blood. And being underground for this long . . . I’m afraid it has taken its toll.” She hung her head, her damp hair forming a curtain around her face.

“And you’ve been alone ever since?” Auren pressed.

The wraith remained quiet for a long moment before answering. “No.” With that one word, her demeanor shifted. A delicate grin—one that could be heard as she spoke—graced her lips. “A man came along.”