Page 3 of Cursed Shadows 2

Paintedsilver.

A laugh catches in my throat.

My grin is crooked and stupid, but I can’t help it as I turn over the worthless thing in my hands. My heart’s doing flips in my chest, because this is worthless to most, but to me I think of Daxeel, of how he’s mocking me with this thing, and how it means something to us. This is the exact same one Ipicked up in the human lands, the ornament I left behind with a sour face, because he made fun of me for it.

He went back for it.

Then he painted it silver.

I don’t know why I want to weep, I just do. The urge is a tickle in my chest, but then…

My face hardens and I narrow my eyes on something in the foliage ahead. A new treat, a new gift, maybe a new bauble? I keep this one in my hand as I stalk for the next.

‘So very litalf of you, blinded by the lure of false treasures.’

He’d been mocking me then, but now he provides. The second treat is a long-stemmed rose. I snatch it up, hungry for it, and shove the petals to my nose. The hit of euphoria is instant as I inhale deeply.

Roses are so rare in our lands, most of them in Licht are imported from the human realm, the rest from Dorcha.

Stepping out from behind a particularly bushy willow, I look ahead and scan for the next. I spot it, beside an empty den burrowed into the dirt, but collapsed.

I step closer and see that my next gift is a nectarquill. A favourite sweet of mine.

If I wasn’t so intent on finding every single gift that he’s laid out for me, I might smile again—but he’s triggered the litalf urges in me, and all I care about right now is collecting my treasures.

How he mocks me…

I know he means to toy with me, but I can’t fight my nature, I can’t ignore all the pretty things…

I hunt among the willows, until I realize I’m on a trail, a trail he’s laid out for me, and it will lead to wherever he is.

I follow it diligently, collecting everything on the way. My arms are soon stacked with painted baubles, nectarquills and regular ones, an inkpot full of glitter, some withered and useless roses, a daffodil, a shiny black ribbon, some crumbs of vanilla bread, chunks of milk cake, an empty bottle, holly and foxglove and honeydrops and—I can’t possibly carry any more, but there’s something blue ahead.

All my treasures in my arms are piled to my chin when I manage to pick up the broken blue seashell with my teeth.

Thankfully, I find no more to carry, because I can’t,I can’t, leave them behind. Not when they are placed so openly on the foliage, as though just waiting for me to take them, begging me to steal them.

I’m a litalf female, this is in my nature, and it can’t be helped, so when I step into the clearing and see Daxeel, see the amusement that dances in his shadowy eyes, the small smile playing on his lush lips, my face crumples into a scowl.

He just grins wider.

Leaning back against the sturdy trunk of a tree, he has his arms folded, and looks like he’s been there, waiting patiently, for me to find my treasure trail.

“Predictable little light one,” he practically purrs at me. “Not so vicious now.”

I might let a snarl twist my face, one that’s less effective given the seashell bitten between my teeth, and all the treasures stacked high in my arms, but my cheeks still flush not just in embarrassment, but because of how pleased he seems.

He looks at me with those lively eyes. But I read so much in them. Affection, adoration even, shines brightest.

I part my lips and let the seashell land on my pile. “I can’t help it,” I hiss at him.

The grin splits his face—and he does something magickal, something that strikes awe though me. He laughs.

A flutter runs through me, and I fight the sudden urge to throw myself at him, to tell him I love him and beg that he never lets me go.

But I steel myself and narrow my eyes instead.

I’m mortified. He reads that on my hot face.

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