Page 95 of Shadow and Smite

I surfaced. Living didn’t feel real, not yet. I blinked, finding a broken throne room. The light of dawn muddled by mist.

I had been on a long journey. Sometimes I lost ground. Sometimes the best I could do was hold still. Still, I climbed upward.

Time flowed strangely in death. I didn’t know if my ascent had taken minutes or centuries. In my lowest moments, I feared becoming lost to time, the necromancer who climbs death forever.

Yet I wasn’t afraid. Ayla stayed with me. She sustained me, waiting, holding the other end of the golden tether. The climb had been mine to make, but I hadn’t done it alone.

Ayla’s kisses covered my brows, tears cleansing my face. Wisps of hair tickled my cheeks.

I absorbed her scent, amazed by the texture of existence. I marveled at the shifting of my lungs, my beating heart. It felt good to be alive.

Lifting my chin, I planted a soft kiss on her neck. My lips stung, my body struggling with stimulation.

Surprised, Ayla steadied herself, meeting my gaze for a hungry second. She dove forward. We kissed, the needy pressure of confirmation—we had both survived.

We settled with my head in her lap. She combed my hair, unwilling to move her fingers from me. I savored her touch.

Ninti nosed my tired hand, forcing her way under my arm. She rested against my belly. I petted her awkwardly, stiff from almost-death. The Firewolf’s power warmed me, reorienting me in my body.

Meanwhile, Eleanor remained frozen. She stood over us with a hand hiding her gaped mouth. She barely reacted to Ayla’s ministrations or Ninti’s attentions.

“Zayne,” my twin breathed my name. She blinked her dry eyes. Her face was pale, lips taut.

“Your Majesty.” I nodded.

“Yes.” Her lip trembled. “I’m the Shadow Queen.”

She shouldn’t have seemed regal. With her worn dress and messy braid, she should have seemed smaller. Something larger sustained her.

“Are the Shades gone?” I asked.

“Yes. You did it.” Her voice cracked. Finally, she dropped the refined act, falling to her knees and meeting me at eye level. We rarely touched and never hugged, but now she reached for my shoulder. Her eyes squeezed shut. “I thought I’d lost you.”

I lifted a heavy arm and gripped her forearm. “I thought I lost you too.”

Eleanor seemed older than before, becoming timeless. Awe filled me, deep as blood. Relief ran with release. Under it all ran a different current, one I struggled to place. An emptiness.

I had been willing to die for this. Ihaddied for this. Now that Eleanor ruled, who would I become?

For the first time since the Collapse, nothing haunted me. In my ascent from death, I had no strength for guilt. I sat up, rising from my would-be grave, knowing I would never be the same.

“It’s done,” Eleanor whispered.

I glanced at Ayla. “It wouldn’t have been possible without help.”

“Yes,” Eleanor agreed, settling on her heels. The softness in her eyes hardened. She glanced at Ayla and pursed her lips. “Thank you, Ayla.”

Whatever had passed between them, I suspected Ayla hadn’t disclosed who she was or what made Ninti special. I hoped Eleanor would come to like Ayla.

This would be the first time either Eleanor or I had been smitten. I suspected Ayla’s appearance would start a common sibling jealousy, and the simpleness almost made me laugh. We might be Shadow Queen and Prince, but we were still an awkward family.

I smiled at Ayla, hoping she was comfortable amidst my sister’s icy demeanor.

“Wait a second,” I said, squinting at her. She looked different. “Your antlers.”

“My what—” Ayla’s eyes grew big. She rushed to run her fingers over the new growth. No longer short and nubby, her antlers had grown a few inches, fully crowning her. Her lips quirked as she examined them. She looked smug.

“To think, you call meprinceling.Look who’s full of herself now,” I teased.

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