Kaelith used this room for everything except dining. He claimed the acoustics were better for sparring, that the vaulted ceiling carried the elegance of pain, of surrender. Perfect, too, for feeding—every gasp, every shudder amplified until it became performance.
A glint caught my eye near the base of the far column. I moved toward it, careful not to step in the blood. The smear ended in a wide, half-dried pool that kissed the edge of the arched garden doors.
And beside it—barely visible in the shadow—was a footprint. Smaller than Kaelith’s. Too small for a soldier.
Still damp. Fresh.
“You shouldn’t be here, shadowborn,” a low voice I’d recognize anywhere said behind me.
I turned.
Gabriel stood half in shadow near the archway, arms crossed loosely over his chest. Tall, broad-shouldered, built for speed as much as strength. His presence filled the corridor, sharp lines carved by torchlight. Dusky lavender skin meltedinto the gloom, and his silver eyes caught the fire in fractured gleams.
One of the last Shadow Elves still bound to the inner castle.
Kaelith claimed he’d “saved” them after the rebellion, but the truth was the opposite—the Shadow Elves had saved Nyxarra’s people. They were the reason we’d survived when the mist rose and the city starved. Their gifts were older than language, older than most dared name. Dangerous. And for that, they were slaughtered, hunted, enslaved. But still, he stayed—a ghost of a rebellion. A man who drifted where he pleased.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he repeated, his silver gaze cutting into me. “She isn’t meant for you.”
I went still, every muscle marking the distance between us. Control first. Always control.
“She?” My jaw tightened. “If you mean Aurelia Moirae—she’s not meant for anyone. Least of all me.” The words came flat, clipped. The Shadow Elves collected whispers the way others collected coin. If “she” was on his tongue, prophecy wasn’t far behind. She was complication enough without prophecy dangling from her name.
Gabriel blinked once. If he was surprised, it didn’t show beyond the faintest shift in his posture. But something in his eyes flickered.
“Yet you chase after her,” he murmured, almost to himself.
“Just trying to keep everyone safe,” I said, sharper than I meant to. We both knew how well it had turned out the last time I’d sworn to keep anyone safe. One city, one oath. A whole people bound to a king who wore my promise like a chain.
And still—I couldn’t seem to stop myself from doing it again. Kaelith couldn’t gain more power.
Gabriel inclined his head, chin tilting toward the garden archway.
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
His mouth twitched, the ghost of a smile. “Don’t let him keep taking pieces of you, Malachi.”
Kaelith had. And he would. Until I found a way to remind him whose shadows he walked through.
Gabriel’s silver gaze softened a fraction. Then he vanished into the dark once more, no more than a breath against the stone.
I straightened and reached for the garden door, pushing it open. It jerked to a stop, slamming against something solid.
“Goddess above,” Aurelia muttered, stumbling back with a hiss as her hand flew to her head. I caught her by the waist before she toppled, steadying her just in time to see a thin ribbon of blood snake down from her hairline.
“You always greet people like that?” she asked, peering up at me through her fingers, blood dripping between them. Her voice was dry, biting. “Or am I just special?”
“You’re bleeding,” I said flatly, ignoring the jab.
“You walked into a door.”
She scoffed. “You barreled into it.”
“You weren’t supposed to be on the other side.”
Her scowl deepened as she shoved my hands from her waist. “It’s just a scrape. I’ll stitch it up myself.”
“We have healers. There’s no need.” I reached for her head to get a better look.