Page 111 of Cursed Shadows 2

Those eyes, those eyes, those eyes.

Nothing but pure, unfiltered victory alights them from the darkness of shadows and kohl lines.

My boots catch on reluctance.

A sudden urge to turn and run.

But he would chase me. He would catch me before I could take a step. Daxeel is a hunter, a warrior—and now it seems the son of darkness itself.

No playful glint in the way he watches me, those tendrils of shadows cling to him as closely as his tattoos mark his neck.

Never before have I felt this small before him, really and truly felt like I’m in danger.

Eamon releases my hand. I feel him near me, so I know he only took a step back to give us a moment, but he sticks close enough that it’s obvious he doesn’t trust his cousin, not before, not now—and maybe I am in more danger than I ever realized.

Swallowing thickly, I take a tentative step for Daxeel. A tear rolls down my flushed cheek. My lips part around shaky words, words I whimper at him like a plea, “What have you done?”

Slicked in blood, the smile he lets warp his face is wicked. “Worry about yourself, Nari. Will you begin your month of slavery now?” He growls out the words as though they are loving—a mockery as my mind fights to catch up. “Or do you need a phase to prepare yourself?”

Slack-faced, I blink once, twice, then a frown pinches my brow. It takes some moments for my dazed mind to catch up.

Slavery. A month—the term served by defectors.

A jagged breath rattles through me. The sound of betrayal.

I take a step back, no Istumble. My spine connects with the tense chest I know too well.

Eamon’s hands come to my sides to steady me. But I slump against him, my watery and blank eyes fixed on Daxeel who wears no pity, only cruel triumph.

That’s how he did it.

He didn’t get me out of the Sacrament. He defected me. And he stole away my month of slavery under his command. Behind my back, he orchestrated this with the iilra—signed my name to his.

Then it flashes in my mind like a whip splitting me in two.

Before I took my place in the stands, the iilra with the parchment. I signed it…

I signed it.

And so did Daxeel.

I can’t breathe.

When I put that quill to paper, I signed my final agreement that I won’t be participating in the first passage. It’s all they needed, it’s all Daxeel needed, to hand me into his ownership.

And I’m the fool who didn’t read the parchment.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t breathe.

Against Eamon’s chest, I lose my strength. My legs buckle under my weight, a sudden crushing weight of reality falls down on me.

My slavery.

The Cursed Shadows, the darkness from Mother herself, one that can be wholly controlled by the iilra the way that the Sisters control the light—and if Daxeel wins the second passage… the Cursed Shadows will be under the complete command of the iilra… and there will be no limitations of where it can go.

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