Page 47 of Shadow and Smite

We jerked away from each other.

The sphinx stood at the base of the stairs. They blinked, wisely ignoring whatever had just happened. I tried to do the same, despite my perked nipples. Zayne adjusted his pants.

The sphinx continued, “Congratulations, you passed. The committee will see you off.”

“Wonderful,” I breathed. Hot and bothered, I tried to celebrate. I felt confused. One more trial completed. That was all that mattered—right?

We followed the sphinx upstairs. I forced cold air through my heated body, straightening my tunic.

We bowed to the committee, and I rushed to express my gratitude, speaking quickly before the sphinx could share what they had seen. Moments later, the doorway appeared. Zayne and I dashed through, returning to the central cavern in a flushed silence.

I didn’t trust myself to speak. My frustrated body urged me to say,I’m hot for you. You’re hot for me. We might die. Let’s do this.I didn’t dare.

Zayne chose not to speak. Through our silence, we agreed not to talk about it.

Instead, we distracted ourselves, staring at the last door.Water.Eager to move forward, refusing to reflect, I didn’t hesitate. I faced the door and stormed through.

I froze, stumped by what I saw, my entire body going cold. In an instant, I knew I couldn’t face this.

I tried to step back, to get away. Too late… the doorway had already disappeared. The trial forced me forward.

The scene before me was all too familiar. The downpour of rain, the freshly dug grave. I started trembling. This was the night everything had gone to hell.

20 | Her Rainy Night

Zayne

The downpour cooled the lingering heat at my core. It was either that or the fear streaked across Ayla’s face. Whatever this was, whatever this meant to her, she was terrified.

I’d never seen her scared, not like this. A primal fear, driving her to flee, and when the portal vanished, she froze. Trusting her instinct, I lowered my weight, readying for an attack.

We stood in the middle of a vast forest, a freshly dug grave before us. Rain beat against the canopy above, dripping onto us, soaking my shirt, plaiting my hair to my face.

But nothing happened. There was no attack. The tension drained from my body, yet Ayla remained rigid.

She had faced a fierce drake and curious gnomes. She had faced the interrogation of scholars. But this? This was rain. A grave.

Still, Ayla didn’t move, and I was getting drenched.

“Did I miss something?” I asked. “Are you expecting an attack?”

“The attack already happened,” she whispered.

“What do you mean?”

It took her a while to reply. In time, she opened her hands to the sky and let the water flow down her face. If she cried, I couldn’t see the tears. “Thisis the challenge. Me. Being here. Facing this.”

I still didn’t understand.

She slumped, falling to her knees before the grave. “This was the night I ran away.”

“Is that you?” I pointed to the grave, horrified. “Did someone bury you alive?”

“No. Not exactly.” She placed her hand against the grave, the dirt turning to mud. “The grave was dug for me, but I’m not the one buried in it.”

“Then who is…”

“The first and only person I’ve killed.”

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