Page 33 of Of Shadow and Moon

I lay there for what feels like an eternity, the cold floor leeching the warmth from my body.

The darkness startsto fade eventually, and I can tell that the nightmare is over. But the pain, both physical and emotional, persists, a remaining whisper of the hell I've been through.

My eyes flutter open, and I'm back in my dorm room at Obsidian Academy. My body's slick with sweat, and my breathing is shallow. The room is too dark to make anything out, but there's a body next to me. I should be scared; instead, some part of me feels… comfortable. I smell pine and leather. The scent is unfamiliar, yet somehow feels like home. It soothes me for reasons I don't understand.

I close my eyes, falling back to sleep, the memory of the nightmare fading into the background. The heat beside me is comforting, and I drift off, praying for a dreamless sleep.

The next morning, the scent of pine and leather still clings to my shirt. Had I dreamed there was someone in my bed?

Goddess, I need coffee.

Chapter 20

Selestina

Night surrounds the academy as I sit at the edge of the courtyard with my back pressed against the cool stone wall. The sky is darkening, with the stars barely visible through the thick canopy of trees. Most students have already retreated to their rooms or are lingering in the dining hall, laughing, talking, being normal.

Normal.

I scoff under my breath.Normalis a luxury I’ll never have. Even here, surrounded by people my age, students eager to prove themselves, I can’t be like them. My mind is always elsewhere, always on edge, waiting for the inevitable. Waiting forhim.

Alexander.

It’s been quiet since I arrived at Obsidian Academy, too quiet. They are going to come any time now, orders from him. The silence gnaws at me, a constant reminder that he's always watching and always ready to pull the strings. I can never know when he is sending the next mission, but I know it’s coming. He never lets me rest for long.

I really can't even remember my life before Alexander, before The Citadel. It's like some sort of blur, flashes of laughter, of warmth, something good that I just cannot grasp no matter how hard I try. It slips through my fingers like sand. I don't know who I was, where I came from, or what led me to his door. All I know is that the second he claimed me, any notion of a normal life died.

I shut my eyes, attempting to force the memories out, but they seep into my mind anyway, the sharp sting of a whip, the branding iron searing into my skin, coldly clinical, and the ways he taught me to kill. How he'd smile when I succeeded, but there was never any warmth in it, just satisfaction, like a collector admiring his prized possession.

The princes would kill me if they knew. Matheus, Tomas, Kaelion, Rhyker, Nazriel. They all hate each other, but their hatred for me would be unmatched if they ever found out the truth. I’ve killed people close to them: family members, trusted friends, loyal allies. They don’t know it was me, of course. The Shadow Reaper doesn’t leave traces, not ones that can be easily followed. But if they knew…

Gods above, if they knew, they would not hesitate to bury me alive.

I turn to Matheus, who sits alone with a book in his hands, the flame of his red hair lit by the last light of day.

I let out a slow breath, trying to calm the rising panic. There's no use in worrying about what ifs. I just need to keep my head down, blend in, pretend like I'm just another student trying to survive. No one suspects me. Not yet. And I need to keep it that way.

I lean my head back against the stone wall, closing my eyes. Why can’t I just be a girl attending Obsidian Academy, worrying about tests and combat drills and—gods forbid—boyslike everyone else? Why does my life have to be this constant dance of survival and secrecy?

I’m lost in my thoughts when something strange catches my attention. My backpack, which I’d left zipped up tight, is now slightly open. My heart skips a beat as I reach over, slowly pulling the flap back. Tucked inside, between my books, is a small piece of parchment.

A chill runs down my spine. I didn’t put this here. I glance around, but no one is paying attention to me. Whoever placed it did so without me noticing. Definitely magic.

I unfold the note with trembling fingers. The parchment is rough, the ink dark and smudged, but the words are clear.

South. 50 meters into the forest. Midnight tonight.

That’s all it says. No signature, no explanation. But I know who it’s from.

Alexander.

My stomach twists, my hands shaking as I fold the note back up and shove it into my pocket.

I swallow hard, dread creeping into my chest.

The moonlight filtersthrough the trees as I step into the clearing, my heart pounding with anticipation, but my face is a mask of calm. I meet Alexander’s gaze, and as always, it’s like staring into an abyss. He stands there, tall andcommanding, every inch the man who’s controlled my life for as long as I can remember.

I stop a few feet away, keeping my posture straight and ready. “You called,” I say, my voice steady, betraying nothing of the unease lurking beneath the surface.

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