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I pictured them all collapsed and silent on the ground.

I imagined every spear broken in half and every point crushed and dull.

I could eradicate them, not just kill them.

My shadows coiled to make my imaginings a reality.

My head tipped backward, my arms opened wide, and—

My mind split into excruciating pieces.

“Darro...”

I smiled and skated my finger down Runa’s body. “Hmm?” Her skin glowed as luminous as the sun. Her eyes traded their mortal amber for the truth of what she was.

The truth that ought to separate us, ought to stop every touch, kiss, and love but only made us fight against the unfairness of our fate.

She arched up as my finger dipped inside her.

She moaned.

I’d kill for her.

Destroy for her.

Scorch the skies and poison the world for her.

“Darro—”

I silenced her with a wickedly deep kiss.

Her hips rose.

And I looked down upon the bed where we lay.

Bones.

Nothing but bleached and bloody bones.

I reared back as crimson droplets rained all over her face, splashing into her pristine white hair, staining the world a rich, ruby red.

Blood and bones.

The dynasty we’d promised not to cause.

Our bed of bones grew higher, higher until we touched the stars with our morbid mountain.

I screamed as shades poured down her throat, snuffing out her life, plunging the world into perpetual, ice-cold night—

My eyes flew wide as I gasped for breath.

I choked and clutched at the dirt with feral fingers.

Zetas whimpered beside me, her large horned head pressed to the ground, her yellow eyes glowing with worry. She licked my wrist hesitantly.

Her warmth seeped into me.

Her aliveness shed away the horror of my vision.

Just a dream.

Not real.

Breathing hard, my gaze locked on the closed entrance of the lupic.

Runa...

Had that truly happened?

Had I kissed her on a mountain of bones before suffocating her with my shadows?

Who are we?

Nhil hunters kept their spears trained on me, locking me in their tight circle. Their heights were different, their skin colours distinct, their eyes, fates, and histories were not the same, yet they all had one thing in common.

They’d been created by mortals who had birthed them.

They belonged in this world.

Yet...I had an awful suspicion that I did not.

That Runa did not.

That we weren’t...born.

And if that was true...

Perhaps, I was the monster here.

I shuddered at the thought of how close I’d come to murdering innocence just because it stood in my way.

Tral entered my spiralling thoughts, his voice heavy with concern. “Are you...okay?”

I refused to meet his eyes.

He was asking if I was okay?

After what I’d almost done?

“Darro?” He bent closer, studying me. “Are you well?”

I gave him a sharp nod. “I’m fine.”

“You collapsed.” His dark gaze travelled from me to Zetas and back again. “Perhaps the injuries you sustained from Lida and Kivva aren’t fully healed.” His eyes flared with another thought. “How long has it been since you ate or drank anything?”

I didn’t reply.

Curling my hands, I summoned back the shades. They struggled against me, making me fight to restrain them. They slithered and tangled, before finally obeying and fading from opaque to smoke, vanishing into my skin.

The hunters guarding me exhaled with a collective grateful breath.

Tral opened his mouth to ask more questions—questions I had no answers to—but the lupic’s entrance parted, and a happy, prancing lynx appeared.

Syn froze when she spotted me. Zetas rumbled quietly beside me. The two predators eyed each other up.

I went to stand—

Runa appeared.

All the ice in my chest and fear in my mind dissolved.

Every thought quietened.

Every worry disappeared.

My entire form shivered with relief.

I stumbled to my feet, swaying a little.

She froze for the briefest of heartbeats before she tripped into a run, flew through the sky, and launched herself into my arms.

I caught her.

I groaned.

The world made sense again.

“Runa...” My arms lashed around her, my nose nuzzled into her hair, every inch of us plastered into one.

The sound of disapproving inhales rippled around us.

I didn’t care Syn swatted my thigh with her claws.

I didn’t care Zetas tried to wedge her muzzle between us.

I didn’t care about my vision of bones and blood.

All I cared about was her.

I needed her.

To survive.

To stay good.

To remain in the light that was slowly dimming inside me.

Her skin to my skin. Her heart to my heart. Her scent and sweat and—

I inhaled a spicy, iron smell.

Blood.

Pulling back, I held her at arm’s length, searching for the wounds I could smell. “What...what did he do to you?”

Biting her lower lip, she spread her palms, revealing the artwork in her skin. “I’ve been given a spirit guardian of my namesake and the adoptive mark of the Nhil.” Twisting her wrist, she revealed the carefully scribed bee and its intricate wings fluttering up the inside of her arm.

“You’re awake.” Her attention slid all over me, lingering on my jaw and temple. “Are you hurt? Did Olish—”

“I’m fine,” I murmured.

Her face whitened as she looked past me to the guards ringing me with spears still pointed. She frowned. “Why are your weapons drawn?” she asked the hunters. Her amber stare met mine. “Why were you on your knees?” Looking from me to Tral, she demanded. “You said he’d be welcomed. You promised—”

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