Page 125
On my right, I hear the sound of a meaty thud, followed by Caelan’s voice snapping. “Seriously?”
I spin to the right as an apple flies through the air, hitting Vaelenor in the side of the head.
In the next breath, Daxen takes an apple to the throat. His hands fly to his neck, and he coughs, frowning at the piece of fruit as it lands on the table, bounces once, and drops to the floor.
“Do not—” Gavran’s warning is cut off by a very prepared Omega. Three apples fly across the four feet between them, like projectile missiles locked on their target with military precision. Gavran’s ready for the first one and the second, but as usual he underestimates the Omega, and a third apple hits its mark and explodes on impact.
Right in the middle of his forehead.
Gavran opens his mouth, snapping it shut when Branwen raises her hand and warns, “Not one word. From any of you.”
Planting both fists on her hips, she turns to my Mates.
“You both are entirely too tall to be standing over your Omega and shouting like that. Look at her! She’s going to strain her bloody neck.”
Both Soren and Caelan sit down so fast it’s almost comical.
“Shit,” Caelan swears. “I’m so sorry. We shouldn’t have been shouting like that. Especially right above you.”
Soren reaches for my hand. “I’m so sorry—Branwen’s right. If we’re going to argue about something, we shouldn’t be putting you in the middle of it. Literally.”
“Aye, sorry lass,” Kane adds, leaning around Soren’s bulk with an apologetic smile.
“And you three—” The glare Branwen levels at Gavran is honestly kind of scary. I expect Gav to reprimand her, but instead his lips tilt into a smile that just sets Branwen off more.
From the corner of my eye, the apple that hit Daxen in the throat rolls out from under the table.
Where in the world did that come from?
It rolls past my chair and continues across the floor before—impossibly—it starts to pick up speed, rolling faster and faster, as if shoved by an unseen force. Halfway across the room, it turns sharply to the left—another impossibility—and rolls another ten feet with unnatural speed. I tense, bracing myself right as it crashes into the stone wall so hard it explodes, sending pieces of pulverized fruit flying through the air.
My heart is racing, slamming against my ribs. There’s no way that just happened. Someone else had to have seen it, right? I can’t be the only one—
“What’s wrong?” Soren murmurs, but I don’t answer. I have a horrible, sinking feeling. I unfold from my seat, gaze bouncing around the room from one window to the next, searching for… something. I don’t know what it is exactly, but I can feel it like something’s watching me.
There.
Before I realize I’ve made the decision to move, I’m shoving back my chair and stepping around it, eyes locked on the seemingly empty space between the floor and the window—right above where the apple exploded.
“Idril?” Caelan stands, but I don’t check to see if he’s following as I creep across the floor. I’m afraid if I so much as blink, what I’m seeing will disappear.
“Wait… what is that?” Daxen murmurs. “It looks like…”
“Is that one of the apples?” Vae asks, incredulously. “What the fuck happened to it?”
“What’s going on?” Silas shouts, the sound unnecessarily loud in the now-silent room.
“Shadows,” I murmur.
At first, I didn’t see it, but now… I’m sure of it. Right there—under the window— a black mist hovers about two feet off the ground.
It’s thick, like impenetrable fog. Almost solid. Unnaturally still.
I’m almost halfway across the room when Soren stalks past me, straight toward the mist.
Up until now it hasn’t so much as stirred, but the moment Soren gets close, it begins writhing and churning in an unnatural pattern. Almost like it’s…
Like it’s agitated.
