Page 60 of Shadowkissed

That’s the one thing this place can’t take from me.

Dante.

His name lives behind my ribs, even when everything else feels hopeless.

I don’t know if he remembers me. I don’t know if the spell worked all the way, or if some part of him still aches the way I do.

Gods, I hope heaches.Because I can’t stand the thought of being the only one hurting.

I pace the chamber Seraphiel’s confined me to—less a prison, more a shrine, which is somehow worse. The floor glows faintly with sigils meant to suppress my magic. My shadows twitch at the brink of their reach, but they won’t cross.

Theycan’t.

I bite my lip hard enough to taste blood and drop to the floor, drawing another set of symbols in the dust. Trying to find a crack. A weakness. Something touse.

He thinks I’m a weapon. But he keeps forgetting—I’malsoa tactician.

It happens late, when the torches flicker blue and the wind shifts like something ancient just moved through it.

I hear them. Whispers. Low. Urgent. Angry.

I press my back to the cold stone and listen.

“…he’s pushing too far?—”

“…the bond wasn’t supposed to be broken yet, he’s rushing this ceremony?—”

“…she’s more than evenheunderstands?—”

I narrow my eyes. Not guards. Not loyalists.

Insiders.

And they’re afraid. Good.

Seraphiel walks around like a god, but even gods can bleed if you press hard enough. Especially when their own people start questioning the doctrine.

I wait until the voices fade before I move.

Back to the sigils. Back to my planning.

If there are cracks in the foundation, I’ll find them. Exploit them.Shatterthem if I have to. Because I’m not dying in this place. And I’m sure as hell not marrying a monster in molten armor who thinks obsession is devotion and my power is his to wield.

The next day—or hour, or whatever time passes here—Riven comes.

He doesn’t knock. Just appears in the doorway like a painting come to life, all silk and sin and that permanent smirk that makes me want to set something on fire.

“You look radiant,” he says, voice honeyed poison. “Caged suits you.”

I glare. “Go choke on your own reflection.”

His grin widens. “Still got bite. That’ll change soon enough.”

He steps closer, and I push to my feet slowly, jaw tight.

“What do you want?”

He circles me, hands behind his back like he’s strolling through a garden and not a power-dampened chamber meant to break me.

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