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A light burned from within her soul so hot and so bright I wanted to reach inside and touch it with my own.
There was usually only one reason a Shadow demon dreamed of a female. The fact this one came to me accompanied by accursed ebony avians suggested I wasn’t the only one in trouble. I had to find her. Not here, in the dreamworld, but in real life. If only I could see her face so I could—
The temperature instantly dropped, chilling me to the bone. A gust of wind barreled up the path carrying a screaming message.Help me! it shrieked, weaving unnaturally around my form.
Suddenly I was moving fast towards the river, straight into the howling wind. Down the slope I hastened, past the last of the trees and slowing at the edge of the wharf. Frantic, I scoured the riverbank.
A stream of moonlight broke through the clouds, illuminating the glassy surface of the river. My search took me further out onto the large dock. Nothing was here. The few boats belonging to Draven were at the small marina. Either that or my subconscious hadn’t deemed them important enough to be present.
I kept alert, looking for anything in the water. When I reached the edge my heart stopped. Out in the middle of the Pale River, silver moonlight reflected off pallid, wet skin.
Fuck!I reacted without thought and dove into the water below.
Propelled by adrenaline, it took only eight strokes to reach my destination. An electric current stunned me momentarily when my skin contacted hers. I shook it off and rolled the female so she was faceup. Keeping her head above water, I took us to the shore as fast as I could.
So many thoughts rushed through me. I knew I was dreaming, but it had to mean something—and it scared the shit out of me. Somehow, this beautiful creature had been dumped in a river, nude, and left for dead. A demon’s dreams didn’t equate exactly to life, but it was surely a sign of something terrible. I only hoped I wasn’t too late to figure it out.
Once I felt the sandy river bottom, I stood with her secured in my arms until we were completely on dry land. I got my precious cargo onto her back and began chest compressions counting in my head.
28 … 29 … 30. It was only then, when I was about to administer two rescue breaths into her mouth, that my brain truly took in her face. The world stopped moving.
Mine!my soul growled.
Not if she dies!I growled back, praying this was all part of a divine message and not her current reality.
My fingers lifted her chin to better push breath into her airway. When I leaned forward, a piercing pain exploded inside my chest. Her eyelids popped open and I fell instantly into a brilliant sea of purple. I held her stare for another heartbeat before tearing myself away to look down.
Frozen in agony, I watched with morbid fascination as the dark-haired beauty twisted, pulled, then slowly withdrew my beating heart from the hole she’d made in my chest cavity. When I met her eyes once more, they’d turned a dark green. Her face blurred, repulsively contorting. Maxilla and mandible morphed into a razor-sharp beak.
Her dark head jerked forward. I remained immobile, caught in the spell of this hellish nightmare. The tip of a curved beak stabbed into my eye and I awoke screaming silently, the air long gone from my lungs.
‡ ‡ ‡
“Again!” Lyric shouted from her spot near the outer wall of Embour. “You almost had it, buddy!”
Lyson lifted the bokken with focused determination despite the red blooming across his cheeks. The teen was doing well with the wooden sword and he was humble enough to be embarrassed by Lyric’s excited praise.
He was an orphan and probably forgot what it was like to be mothered. Images of my own mother’s face arose in my mind. I ignored the bite of pain under my sternum. Once again, my focus was divided. I lifted my matching weapon and motioned Lyson forward.
Officially, Phalen, our Shadow Army’s commander, ran the soldiers’ training. Lyson got put through his paces with the rest of them, but was eager to learn more.
After he had been grievously injured attempting to thwart Lyric’s abduction two years back, she had taken to the lad and went out of her way to be involved with him. When he’d shown interest in swordplay, the Shadow Blade leapt at the chance to train him. When Lyric realized a baby bump might present a problem when sparring, she asked me to step in and I accepted as graciously as I could.
I had been known as the best swordsman this side of the Shadowlands until her arrival. There were no hard feelings on my end, but I did enjoy teasing her from time to time that I was back on top thanks to the tiny freeloader in her belly. It usually earned me a punch to the solar plexus on the days I was lucky and a blow to the kidney on the days I was not.
What could I say? Draven’s mate was a fighter at heart and none of us could hit back until after their bairn’s arrival. Until then, I’d spar with her verbally and take her hits as payback.
Unable to train and fight at the level she was accustomed to, Lyric obviously needed something to fill her time. Each day of Lyson’s private sessions she stood on the sidelines shouting while we both tried to ignore her.
I almost always held my tongue at her pseudo-mothering. The kid deserved to have someone in his corner, even if it was a crazy little blonde with a dirty mouth.
“Duck!” she yelled.
I halted the arc of my fake sword. “You’re not helping him,” I chastised. My spine straightened and my weapon lowered. Lyson mimicked my stance.
“Sure I was. Right, Ly?”
“Um, yes?” he answered, completely unsure how to handle his master’s mate.
