Page 78 of Of Shadow and Moon

Then, abruptly, she shoves her chair back with a screech and bolts to her feet.

“I need to go.” Her voice is sharp, but there’s an edge to it, breathless, something not quite as steady as she wants it to be. And that tells me everything I need to know.

She’s not running from us.

She’s running from herself.

And just like that, she’s gone, practically sprinting out of the library as if the very air around us had become too much.

I sit back in my chair, watching her retreat with a satisfied smirk.

Rhyker exhales slowly, his gaze watching the doorway she disappeared through. Then, he turns to me and smirks.

“May the best man win.”

I laugh. “Game on.”

Chapter 45

Selestina

The dorm feels too small, too confining. The walls seem to press in as I pace the room, my thoughts tangling in a mess of conflicting emotions and secrets too heavy to carry alone.

Nasarea is perched on her bed, her long black curls spilling over her shoulder as she watches me with a mix of curiosity and mild exasperation. She’s been quiet, letting me wear a path in the floor as I wrestle with my mind.

Finally, I stop, the tension in my shoulders too much to bear. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I say, the words slipping out in a rush. “It’s like… I can’t stop thinking about them.”

Her brow arches, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “Them?” she asks, drawing out the word with mock innocence.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “The princes,” I admit, my voice dropping as if saying it too loudly might summon them. “All of them. I don’t understand it. It’s like they’re everywhere, pulling me in different directions, and it’s driving me insane.”

Nasarea smirks, leaning back against the headboard.

I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. Nasarea’s candor is refreshing, even if I still feel conflicted. “It’s not just that,” I admit. “There’s more. I overheard something a week ago at Quetla. Something about the kings.” She didn’t get to that part of my memory because I was already in so much pain. But I know I need to tell her.

Her expression shifts instantly, the teasing light in her eyes replaced with a seriousness that feels almost out of place. “What did you hear?”

I hesitate again, the words caught in my throat. Sharing this feels like crossing a line, one I can’t uncross. But Nasarea has proven herself in ways I didn’t expect, and for better or worse, I need someone to talk to. “They were talking about a prophecy,” I say finally. “And about… the Shadow Reaper. They’re afraid of something, Nasarea. Something bigger than any of us.”

She looks at me, her dark eyes unreadable. “You’re sure?”

I nod. “Positive. It didn’t make sense at the time, and it still doesn’t. But they seemed… desperate.”

Nasarea leans forward, her elbows resting on her knees. “The kings, meeting? That doesn’t happen. Not since…” Her voice trails off, and she bites her lip, clearly debating whether to continue.

“Since what?” I press, sensing there’s more to this than she’s letting on.

She sighs, running a hand through her curls. “The first time they met, like all of them together, they formed the alliance. It was… a disaster. Too much war, too many losses. They needed to stop before there was nothing left of Tonalli to save.”

I lean against the edge of my bed, intrigued. “And?”

“And,” she says, a smile tugging at her lips, “the princes were just boys back then. Five, maybe six. They weren’t supposed to leave their rooms, but they found each other in Metztli’s gardens. They played for hours. I watched from my window, and for the first time, they looked… happy. Carefree. Nazriel even looked up at me and put his hand over his heart. He knew I wanted to join them, but no one could know I existed.”

Her voice softens as she continues. “Mother smuggled me into the meeting, kept me hidden in her room. She always made sure I wasn’t left behind, even if it meant bending the rules. I loved her for that. But when the kings found the princes in the garden…” She pauses, her expression darkening. “They were furious. All of them were punished. That was the day Nazriel changed. He was never the same after that.”

The weight of her words settles heavily in the room. “Nasarea,” I say carefully, “what do you know about the prophecy?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing, really. Just whispers, stories meant to scare children. But…” She pauses, her brow furrowing in thought. “There was a nursery rhyme my mother used to sing to me. I hadn’t thought about it until now.”

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