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Scoffing, the male kicked himself off the wall and crossed his arms, standing by Areanel’s side. ‘This is Rymedur?’

The look of downright contempt the male sent his way had Rymedur’s jaw clenching. But that was not what had Rymedur shifting his weight. It was the male’s appearance that had him tightening the grip he had on his scythe. The male’s skin—his hair, down to the small thin lashes that blinked at him, and even his eyes—looked to be leached of colour. His hair—silver. His skin—pale. Colourless.

A sudden sharp inhale had Rymedur’s shoulders constricting when he remembered Vasilio’s words over a week ago. Eyes dull. Cold. At least you have some colour. Was this then perhaps… That would explain their proximity and why Areanel hadn’t killed him.

Irrational anger, hot and heavy, punched through his stomach.

‘Don’t, Caius,’ Areanel reprimanded, but her blue gaze remained trained on Rymedur.

‘I just thought he’d be more…’ The male—Caius—let his voice trail off as he sketched a brow, lips curling in distaste.

‘More, what?’ Rymedur snarled. He had heard every variation of insult; nothing surprised him anymore. He wanted to see if this one would at least be creative. If not, he didn’t mind ripping his throat out.

Caius smiled—wide and toothy. Cocky bastard had a death wish, it seemed.

Before he could say another word, Areanel stepped in front of him. A subtle shift, but Rymedur had noticed it. The way she had placed herself between them, vulnerable back towards the male, made Rymedur subconsciously clench his hands.

This male had tried to attack her; now she protected him?

Rymedur took a single, menacing step forward. Areanel squared her shoulders at his approach, but he noticed the way her eyes darted over his shoulder. Was that apprehension in her eyes?

Following her line of sight, Rymedur watched out of the corner of his eye as the darkness rapidly grew, submerging them entirely. Clawing their way across the alleyway, the abyss crept closer and closer, and Rymedur almost expected to hear that chilling, disembodied voice from his dream whisper in his ear. Instead, all he could hear was the sound of his blood thrumming and a quiet hissing near his shoulder.

Something warned him to act fast, and his fingers itched towards his scythe that rested at his back. Something licked at his cheek as he turned his head. Shadows. Not the ones from his dream, but his.

When had they peeled away from his skin?

Rymedur hadn’t felt it—hadn’t even registered telling them to move—but they hovered in a serpentine motion at his shoulders, practically engulfing him in icy darkness. Feeling his gaze, they seemed to turn towards him, regarding him before abruptly snapping back in Areanel’s direction. They hissed.

Rymedur’s movements mimicked his shadows. His head whipped to Areanel, teeth bared when he saw Caius had placed his hand against her lower back.

In a voice that promised death, Rymedur warned, ‘Keep your hands off her.’

‘And if I don’t?’ A smug smirk had Caius’s lips parting, the look of victory passing over his dull, colourless eyes when Rymedur growled low. ‘Is that a threat to kill me, shadows?’

Rymedur didn’t hesitate. He’d put this male in his place if he needed to. ‘More like a promise.’

‘Caius!’ Areanel hissed in reprimand, though her eyes never left Rymedur’s.

Rymedur watched in satisfaction when Caius’s lip pulled back from his teeth. He rolled his neck, but his hand never left Areanel. The fucker was persistent. ‘I didn’t think half-breeds would be this territorial,’ Caius snickered. ‘He’s putting us to shame.’

The way Caius glanced at Areanel when he said us had Rymedur’s nails digging into his palms. Of course, he was a pure-blooded elf. Rymedur could practically smell the overbearing floral scent of vanity that usually accompanied elven males.

‘Enough.’ Areanel rammed an elbow into Caius’s side, and Rymedur’s lips pulled into a victorious smirk when the movement dislodged his hold.

Rymedur had to make a conscious effort to pull his shadows back, but with a slow, deep inhale, he pushed a thought down that dark bond within him. Calm. Settle. Quell your thirst. He thrust the thought down, driving his shadows to withdraw.

As they retreated, the abyss that surrounded them lessened, but lingered at the edges. Waiting. Still within reach. A comfort.

Laced with the promise of death, Rymedur asked, ‘Who are you?’

But it was Areanel who answered. ‘This is Caius. He’s an old friend.’

Rymedur knew Areanel was an excellent liar. She had to be—especially because she was an envoy. She lied for her father all the time. They all had to spin a web of lies at some point, for some reason. Even Rymedur. He was lying right now—Rymedur had visited Cal Cathlar before. In fact, he was intimately familiar with Alabasus, and had attended many of its establishments. But that was before Areanel, a whole life of mistakes and exploration of many vices. Before Andrea. Some things were better left unsaid.

So, knowing she wouldn’t let her mask slip, Rymedur’s gaze shifted beyond. Slowly rising over her shoulder, he assessed the curl of Caius’s lips, the hardened expression wiping his cocky grin away and the tick that suddenly appeared in his jaw at the word friend.

Just as Rymedur was about to speak, his shadows shifted their attention to someone barrelling down the alley.