Page 52 of Shadow's Claim

Kael moves closer, shadows extending from his midnight-black skin to mingle with the patterns beneath mine. The sensation is strangely intimate, like fingers interlacing. "Not if we travel through shadow pathways. The attack has disrupted regular surveillance. There's a narrow window where unconventional transit might succeed."

"Shadow pathways?" I repeat, my interest piqued despite our dire situation. "You mean the dark corridors?"

"Something more... direct." His four arms create complex patterns in the air, manipulating darkness with practiced precision. "Shadow demons can move through concentrated darkness, bypassing physical barriers. With your developing abilities and my guidance, you might manage it temporarily."

I stare at him, processing what he's suggesting. "You want me to travel through shadows? Like a shadow demon?"

"The hybrid creates bridge between our abilities," he explains, one hand gesturing to the shadow patterns that now cover most of my visible skin. "Your transformation has progressed further than most human omegas. The connection might be strong enough."

The hybrid's consciousness brushes against my mind again, a warm sensation that feels like agreement. My hand moves unconsciously to my abdomen, where shadow patterns pulse with increasing intensity.

"If it doesn't work?" I ask, practical concerns overriding the wonder of what he's suggesting.

"Then we face Obscura's forces in transit," he acknowledges, brutal honesty in his glowing eyes. "But remaining ensures capture."

A crash echoes from somewhere deeper in the complex—Constantin's team likely regrouping for another assault. The decision crystallizes with sudden clarity. We have no other viable options.

"What do I need to do?" I ask.

Kael's expression shifts subtly, satisfaction mingling with something that might be pride. His massive form moves closer, shadows gathering around us both like living curtains.

"Focus on the darkness," he instructs, his voice dropping to a register that sends vibrations through my chest. "Not as absence of light, but as substance with its own properties."

I try to follow his direction, studying the shadows that dance between us. For most of my life, darkness was just emptiness, the space where light wasn't. But living with Kael, carrying his child, experiencing my own transformation—I've begun to understand shadows differently. They move with purpose, respond to emotion, carry information in their subtle variations.

"I see... patterns," I say hesitantly, noticing how the darkness flows in currents, thicker in some places, thinner in others. "Like rivers, or... neural pathways."

"Yes." His approval wraps around me like a physical touch. "Shadow paths connect all darkness. Follow these currents, and physical barriers become irrelevant."

Another crash, closer this time. We're running out of time.

"Guide me," I say, extending my hand toward him.

Kael's four arms move in perfect coordination—two creating protective barrier around us while the others reach for me. His massive hands engulf mine, cool midnight-black skin against my paler tone where shadow patterns haven't yet emerged.

"Close your eyes," he instructs. "Physical vision interferes with shadow-sense."

I obey, shutting out the red emergency lighting. Immediately, my perception shifts. Without visual input, the shadow-sense that's been developing alongside the hybrid sharpens dramatically. I can feel darkness gathering around us, responsive to both Kael's will and, surprisingly, my own.

"The hybrid strengthens your connection," Kael observes, his voice coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. "Focus on its consciousness alongside your own."

I reach mentally toward the life growing inside me, that increasingly distinct presence that shares my thoughts but remains separate. The hybrid responds immediately, its consciousness brightening with something like excitement. Shadow patterns beneath my skin burn with cold fire, and suddenly I can sense the pathways Kael described—tunnels of concentrated darkness that weave through physical reality like threads through fabric.

"I see them," I whisper, wonder overriding fear.

"Hold to me," Kael's voice commands, his grip on my hands tightening. "The first transition is disorienting."

That's an understatement. One moment we're standing in the damaged corridor of Kael's chambers, and the next?—

Everything dissolves. My body feels simultaneously weightless and heavy, like being underwater but without the resistance. Darkness surrounds us completely, not as absence but as substance—thick, velvet-soft, alive with currents and eddies. I try to gasp but have no lungs to breathe with, try to blink but have no eyes to close. Panic threatens to overwhelm me until the hybrid's consciousness presses reassuringly against my mind, calm amidst the chaos.

We're moving, somehow, though I have no sense of speed or direction. Kael's presence remains tethered to mine, his shadow-self guiding us through this impossible space between spaces. The journey could last seconds or hours—time has no meaning here.

Just when I think I can't bear the disorientation any longer, reality reassembles around us. My body solidifies, gravity reclaims me, and I stumble forward on suddenly unsteady legs. Kael's four arms catch me easily, supporting my weight as my vision returns in disorienting fragments.

"Breathe," he instructs, his voice solid and real again. "The first transit affects even shadow demons."

I gulp air desperately, my lungs burning as though I've been underwater too long. The hybrid stirs vigorously inside me, its consciousness bright with what feels like exhilaration. Apparently, at least one of us enjoyed that experience.

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