Page 2 of Broken Shadows

I lift my fingers to my lips. Crimson stains my skin when I make contact, and I laugh maniacally. “I’m going to kill you,” I growl, each word I utter drips with the promise of violence as they rush off my tongue.

I launch myself at him, claws first, the muscles in his neck tensing as my nails penetrate the flesh of his chest. Demon blood, in a shade of blue so deep that it appears nearly black, blossoms across his shirt. The jagged slashes of fabric now resembling the innards of a Hell beast.

Fury blinds me as my shadows lash across his face, leaving paper cut like wounds in their wake. His eyes burn into mine, black fire rising in their depths. Good. Let the wrath rise, then I can dispose of him and retrieve my witch. I grin and curl two fingers toward me, but Ezra moves faster than I expect as my madness distorts reality.

My breathing hitches, then cuts off entirely as Ezra cinches my windpipe with a shadow. He moves me a safe distance away from him and coils another length of shadow around my torso and calves, pinning my arms to my sides. My boots scrape across the marble floor as his shadows drag me through the foyer to the dining room, depositing me into a velvet upholstered chair, his shadows continuing to render me immobile.

“You motherfucker,” I mouth, but no sound escapes to form the words.

Ezra smirks, obsidian flames dancing in his irises. “Now, you can fucking listen for once.” He grunts as he runs his fingers through his hair and encounters the tangled knot of his bun. A purple hair tie snaps against his wrist, then he continues unknotting his dark hair with his tattooed fingers. “You always were so intense when you were upset.”

The words flow off his tongue so flippantly, as if losing the one thing in my life that I give a shit about means absolutely nothing. Besides, he’s one to talk. He’s fucking Wrath, the embodiment of anger. I’ve never come close to the fits he throws.

I press my arms and legs into his shadows while shifting my torso as much as possible. My muscles bulge and strain against their binds, but Ezra only tightens his shadow ropes. Blackness seeps into the edges of my vision as my lungs starve for oxygen.

“This is pitiful, Brother.” Ezra sighs as his demonic body slowly fades into his human-like one. “If you don’t get a handle on your madness, or whatever it is you call this,” Ezra states, motioning up and down with a hand, “you’ll be no use to me.”

I freeze, ice quenching the fire in my blood so thoroughly I swear it hisses.

My brother’s gaze flicks back and forth over my face. He nods slowly as he acknowledges the weariness settling over my features. With one fluid movement, his shadows dissipate. I pant and grip my knees for support as my trachea and lungs burn, their membranes flooding with precious air.

Ezra plucks at his ruined clothes, the gore drenched, slashed fabric clinging to his skin, then plants his ass on the mahogany table. “We have bigger things to worry about, like getting the fuck out of here,” he states, his upper lip curling, “but you still owe me a new shirt, dick.”

“I agree and plan to find a way outbymyself.”

Ezra scoffs. “You need my help. As much as it pains me to admit, we need to work together on this one.” He shakes his head and blows out a tense breath. “If your witch hadn’t smashed the damn mirror—”

“It’s your own fault. You followed us into the Shadow Realm of your own free will.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yes, but she wouldn’t have been in the Shadow Realm to begin with if you didn’t stalk her through mirrors for months and make it easy for us to find her.”

My eyelid twitches as I struggle to keep my composure intact. “Why were you looking for her, anyway? We both know The Order means nothing to you.”

“It doesn’t, but we needed the extra hands.”

“What is it you want with Evie?” I ask again, knowing I won’t ask a third damned time.

“To unleash her magic,” he admits, and fury laces my veins as my fingers flex with the urge to destroy him. “I knew you’d try to use her so you could leave the Shadow Realm. I didn’t want you out. In fact, I wanted you dead. But things changed recently.”

Of course, the fucker wanted me gone. “What things?”

He doesn’t answer as he paces around the room. The usual snark in his tone returns when he opens his mouth. “Do you know what the advantage of skulking around in the shadows is?” He pauses, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. “I witnessed so much more between the two of you than you realize. It was both intriguing and disgusting watching you pant at the witch’s heels like a well-trained dog.”

“Fucking lech.”

Ezra continues as if I haven’t spoken. “I don’t even want to get into the psychological fuckity-fuck that was. How do you think she found her aunt’s grimoire and knew what was under your mask?”

A growl rumbles in my chest, but Ezra continues to speak over it.

“Look, if I hadn’t interfered, I would have been stuck here for the rest of my damn days with only the sound of you two fucking all over the manor for company.”

“Again, you’re a godsdamn pervert.”

“Have I ever denied it? Although, I’ll admit it was fucking hilarious seeing that cute little bat piss you off so thoroughly. I think you’re officially bronamies. What was it you called him?” He taps a finger against his chin, then chuckles. “Oh right, Fluffy Fucker. Classic Lorcan, an emotional wreck.”

I march up to him, snarling in his face. “The only thing your interference accomplished was scaring her into destroying the portal, the very one you needed to leave here too.” I draw away, my claw not so accidentally cutting the hair tie from his wrist, then blow out a slow, wistful breath. “Maybe if you behaved, your plan would have succeeded, and she would have left me and wouldn’t have been terrified enough to ruin your only way out of here.”

Ezra snorts and shoves his hair out of his face. “Perhaps you’re right.”

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