Page 60 of Shadow's Claim

"Promise?" I hate how vulnerable the word sounds, how much it reveals about my changed feelings.

His shadows reach up through the slats, briefly touching the shadow patterns visible on my hands. The contact sends ripples of awareness through the marks, like fingers interlacing. "The hybrid connects us," he says simply. "Neither distance nor Obscura can break that bond."

Then he's gone, moving silently back down the tunnel to intercept the approaching search team. I remain frozen for a moment, half-expecting immediate shouts of discovery. Instead, I hear Kael's voice, unnervingly casual, addressing someone: "Commander Vex. Unusual to find you performing basic security sweeps."

I can't make out Vex's reply, but the conversation gives me the chance to start crawling forward through the ventilation shaft. It's a tight squeeze—my shoulders brush both sides, and my swollen belly scrapes uncomfortably against the bottom. The hybrid seems to understand the predicament, its movements stilled to make passage easier.

I crawl by feel more than sight, the darkness nearly complete except for thin strips of light filtering through occasional vents. The metal is cool beneath my palms, and I try not to think about what else might be sharing this confined space with me. Dust tickles my nose, threatening a sneeze I desperately suppress.

My connection to Kael feels strangely tangible—not just emotional concern but something almost physical, as though the shadows inside me maintain a tether to him. The hybrid's consciousness serves as bridge, occasionally sending me flashes of sensation that don't originate from my own perceptions.

Through one such flash, I sense danger—not mine but Kael's. Commander Vex's suspicion, his barely contained hostility. Four specialized shadow enforcers surrounding Kael in the tunnel below, their glowing eyes fixed on him with predatory focus. I feel Kael's calculated calm, his assessment of each enforcer's strengths and weaknesses, the way he's already planning three moves ahead.

"...harboring a fugitive omega violates multiple protocols," Vex's voice reaches me faintly through a nearby vent. "Sovereign Obscura has authorized immediate containment measures."

"The transfer order was temporarily suspended on medical grounds," Kael responds, his tone revealing nothing of the tension I can feel through our shadow connection. "Dr. Grey's documentation follows all required procedures."

"Dr. Grey's authority has been revoked," Vex counters with obvious satisfaction. "And your territorial rights suspended pending investigation into resistance collaboration."

I keep crawling, even as my mind races with fear for Kael. The hybrid's consciousness pulses with what feels like reassurance—a sense that Kael is far more capable than these enforcers realize. I cling to that confidence as I navigate the dark, cramped shaft.

After what feels like hours but is probably only minutes, I reach a junction where the ventilation system splits in multiple directions. With no way to know which path leads toward the western exit, I close my eyes and focus on the hybrid's consciousness, seeking guidance.

The response comes immediately—a sense of rightness about the leftward path. Not words or images exactly, but certainty that feels both mine and not-mine simultaneously. I'm still learning this new language, this communication that transcends words or even clear images. It's instinctive, primal—perhaps how shadow demons communicated before developing formal language.

I follow the hybrid's guidance, taking the left path at each subsequent junction. The shaft gradually widens, allowing slightly easier movement. Eventually, I spot a larger grate ahead that shows not the interior of another room but what looks like night sky—an external ventilation exit.

With renewed hope, I push forward, reaching the grate and peering through its slats. Beyond it lies a small service area—a neglected corner of the Academy grounds where maintenance equipment and waste bins stand in untidy rows. More importantly, a service gate in the perimeter wall stands partially open, likely left that way by workers who assumed Academy security would handle any real threats.

Freedom. So close I can taste it.

I push against the grate, but it doesn't budge. Of course it wouldn't be that easy. Examining the edges, I spot simple screws holding it in place—standard security to prevent animal intrusion, not designed to withstand determined escape attempts.

But without tools, how do I?—

The hybrid's consciousness pulses strongly, shadow patterns beneath my skin suddenly glowing with purple light. I feel something new—a sense of control over darkness that goes beyond what I experienced in Kael's chambers. This isn't just biological response to his pheromones or claim. This is power—my own, or perhaps ours together.

I focus on the shadows gathering around my fingers, trying to shape them with purpose as I've seen Kael do countless times. The darkness responds—extending from my fingertips like living tools, simultaneously solid and insubstantial. With focused intent, I manage to form something resembling a flat edge, which I slide between the grate and its frame.

It takes several attempts, but eventually I create enough leverage to pop one corner free. From there, I can grip the edge and pull it loose with a metallic screech that sounds deafening in the quiet night.

I freeze, waiting for alarms or shouts, but the Academy grounds remain quiet in this neglected corner. Cautiously, I lower myself from the ventilation exit, dropping the short distance to the ground with much less grace than I would have managed before pregnancy.

The night air feels amazing after the stale confines of the ventilation system. I fill my lungs, orienting myself by the Academy's distinctive dome visible above nearby buildings. The western exit should be straight ahead, beyond the service gate.

As I move toward it, the hybrid suddenly projects alarm—sharp and immediate—through our mental connection. I duck behind a waste bin just as two shadow enforcers round the corner, their glowing eyes scanning the service area with predatory intensity.

"The ventilation systems show unauthorized access," one says, four arms manipulating shadows to extend his sensory range. "Something displaced the exterior grate."

The other nods, moving methodically through the service area, checking behind each piece of equipment. He's moving in a pattern that will bring him to my hiding place within seconds.

The hybrid's consciousness pushes urgently against my mind, shadow patterns beneath my skin pulsing with renewed energy. I focus on the darkness around me, drawing it closer like a cloak. Not invisibility—shadow demons can see perfectly well in darkness—but perhaps enough concealment to create confusion, to blend my shadow patterns with the natural darkness.

The enforcer stops just feet from my position, head tilting as though sensing something unusual. His four arms create patterns in the air that make nearby shadows dance and shift. I hold my breath, pressing myself as flat as possible against the cold metal of the waste bin.

"Commander Vex demands immediate reporting," calls his companion from across the service area. "Lord Kael has been detained for questioning."

Kael—captured. My heart clenches with fear, but the hybrid's consciousness remains oddly calm, projecting what feels like...confidence? As though it knows something I don't about Kael's situation. It's learning so quickly, developing awareness that should be impossible for an unborn child. Yet here we are, communicating, working together to survive.

---