Page 17 of Cursed Shadows 5

If he does, he’s silent, a shadow.

I should be relieved, right?

He is alive.

I know that now.

His voice, I could never misplace it. I will always know it.

So shouldn’t I feel something other than this ugliness swelling inside of me, growing, aching? I want to reach into my own chest and rip my heart out.

“Narcissa!”

Father is close now.

In my escape of Daxeel, I drew closer to the other male whose boots I itch to spit at. Males I wish to never see again.

Do I mean that?

I don’t know.

I might.

All I know for certain in this moment is that if another fae bangs into me, I’m going to tear their fucking throat out.

I find I am liar in thought as well as speech.

Because the next fae to knock into me is the one who grabs the meat of my bicep and tugs me around to face him.

I don’t rip his throat out. Or hers.

I just… stare.

Father wears redness in his eyes. He searches mine for something, answers or receptiveness.

I doubt he finds anything more than silent, numb tears.

At his side, Pandora takes a step up onto the paved cobblestone path. She does not wear the swell of a child anymore, but rather, she holds a swathed babe to her chest.

I can’t even bring myself to incline my head, let alone speak.

I have no greeting for them.

Father realises this.

His hand slips from my arm. “Nari, my child.”

My jaw tightens.

Pandora takes another step, a small tentative one. “We have been searching for you. Where have you been? We thought you were up there—”

“I was.” My tone is as dead as my stare. “Then I was with a healer.”

Pandora’s tongue darts across her lips, nervous, then, “You are well?”

Father runs me over with his stare, searching me for injury. He finds enough to thin and tilt his mouth.

“You...” Pandora pauses, as though unsure of her own words. She holds her babe closer to her chest. “You did well, Nari. Better thanwell. Didn’t she, Father?”

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