Page 1 of Duskbound

PROLOGUE

I had always feltsafest in the shadows.

Before the Guard, I clung to them, hiding within their veiled embrace. It hadn’t occurred to me much at the time, but the price of such a life is a stifled sort of existence, like a flower delicately pressed between the pages of a book. Preserved but stagnant. Reduced to the whims of those brave enough to steal a peek inside.

You never really know what you’re missing until it becomes clear, either by chance or fate. In my case, it was by force.

Laryk had all but yanked me from the depths, throwing my flattened petals into water, but not the still pond that simply revived. No, he flung me into a tumbling maelstrom, the type of current meant to transform. The type that stripped away the layers of old, eroding familiar contours and shaping something anew.

Something that could exist in the light.

Yet, to my surprise, it wasn't the annihilation I'd always feared.

It was a revelation.

Being seen, truly seen, wasn't death. It was a spark of life I had never known. A love I had never wanted. It filled me with a powerthat, from the darkness, had always seemed so much like a curse. Beneath the waves, I’d learned to face it.

So as change typically goes, I abandoned what I once clung to. Darkness became a relic, and I turned my back on shadows in favor of the light.

Never once did I think they’d return to claim me.

CHAPTER ONE

Someone was knocking.

I didn’t budgefrom my place at the window, head resting on the cool iron bars that kept me trapped amongst the clouds. An eerie nothingness sank into my gut, mirroring the fog that encapsulated the tower I now found myself in.

Tiny curving streets were a blur from this height, obscured even more by the mist that hung heavy in the air. A mist that never seemed to dissipate. Only muted rays of an eclipsed sun broke through, casting a dim light into the room—my prison of obsidian-carved walls.

My eyes blurred, adjusting their focus until my reflection stared back at me from the glass. Black ink curled in the corners of my eyes, reaching out towards the onyx of my pupils but never quite connecting. Avoiding the mirror had become my top priority. I couldn’t face it. I couldn’t face myself. I only dared an occasional peak in the semi-reflective glass of the window. But even then, I couldn’t take in the sight for very long.

Shadow wielder.

The words never left my mind. Not for a single moment since the golden-eyed soldier had spewed them in my direction. That was days ago.

Four, five maybe?

I’d lost count.

The time of day hadn’t seemed to change from the moment I’d arrived.

“I have your meal.” The exasperated voice of a woman sounded from the hallway, muffled by the heavy door.

“I hope you’re decent! I’m coming in!” she said before the grating of a rusted lock echoed through the room. “Aether’s busy—of course, he is—so I thought, why not me?” The door creaked open.

I tensed, grabbing my dagger from the windowsill, quickly sheathing it against my thigh before turning towards my new visitor. Recognition bloomed as I noticed the lithe frame of the woman from the ball at Emeraal. Her soft voice did not match the previous image I had of her with the mysterious aura and crow attached to her shoulder. The perfect complexion from the evening had been wiped away and swapped for a color palette that accentuated the shadows around her eyes rather than mask them, and her dark hair was now pinned back with multiple bobbles that clinked together with each step. She wore a similar uniform to the one Aether had worn, but different whimsical patterns were pressed into the leather.

Her eyes lit up when she spotted me, as if she had just stumbled upon an old friend. “Oh, you’re awake! That’s good. I brought you some food!” She lifted the tray slightly, as if it were a trophy, and deposited it on the bed with a flourish. “It’s just rice. Not very exciting, I know.”

I said nothing, watching her closely, assessing her demeanor.She didn’t seem particularly threatening, but her casual approach grated on my nerves. My gut churned as I calculated my options.

She, oblivious to my silence, clasped her hands together. “You must be so confused! I mean, I’d be confused too—waking up in a strange place, unfamiliar people—but I promise, we’re not here to hurt you.” She smiled brightly. “I’m Effie, by the way. And you… well, what’s your name?”

I schooled my expression into neutrality. “What am I doing here?” I asked, my voice tight.

Effie tilted her head, clearly debating her response. “How are you feeling?” she asked instead, her tone oddly earnest. Her gaze roved over me with fascination, as if I were some rare artifact she’d just acquired.

I clenched my jaw. “If you’re not the enemy, then why am I being held hostage?”

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