Page 5 of Wings of Shadow
Cassandra relaxes in her seat, a knowing glint in her eye. “Ah, yes. The Last Dragon Shifter.” She pauses, as if stunned herself at the grandeur those words entail. “The rumors are true. His name is Nikolaas Draken.” She takes a sip of her tea. “And that beautiful creature you encountered moments ago? That was his younger sister, Clarissa. She’s studying the craft under Juliette’s tutelage. Visits the manor quite frequently.”
I school my features into a mask of polite interest, trying to betray none of the sudden surge of excitement that courses through me at this revelation. “Is that so? How fascinating.”
A shadow of movement draws my attention, and I turn to see a woman emerging from an adjacent room, a clipboard clutched in her manicured hands. Our gazes meet, and for a moment, I feel pinned in place by the intensity of her stare. She holds my gaze for a beat longer than strictly necessary before excusing herself, disappearing as quickly as she arrived.
“One of my staff,” Cassandra explains, noting my distraction. “An interior designer who specializes in antiques. She’s been invaluable in the manor’s restoration.”
I nod, filing away the information for later.
Cassandra leans forward, her expression turning serious. “But Kaisner, there is another matter I wish to discuss with you. A matter that pertains to your particular talents as a warlock.”
I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. My reputation as a master of the Dark Arts is well known in certain circles, but it’s rare for Cassandra to bring it up so directly.
“I’m curious about Shadow Beings,” she continues, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve heard rumors, stories that seem too fantastical to be true. But with your expertise, I thought perhaps you could shed some light on the subject.”
As Cassandra delves into the specifics of her query, her words washing over me in a steady flow, I find my mind drifting, inexorably drawn back to the encounter in the library. Clarissa. The name rolls through my thoughts like an incantation, conjuring images of golden hair and eyes that sparkle like jewels.
The Last Dragon Shifter’s sister.
The realization sends a thrill down my spine, and I have to suppress a shudder of anticipation. Oh, the secrets she must hold, the power that must course through her veins. What I wouldn’t give to unravel those mysteries, to taste that power for myself.
But even as my thoughts wander, my keen senses pick up on a subtle detail in the room, a faint scent that tickles at the edge of my awareness. It’s a rich, earthy aroma, slightly sweet with hints of amber, vanilla, and spice. Dragon’s blood. The incense is unmistakable, and its presence here is no accident.
I know the properties of dragon’s blood all too well, its ability to ward off evil spirits and create a protective barrier around those who burn it. The fact that Cassandra has chosen to use it now, during our conversation, speaks volumes.
She’s being cautious, ensuring that our discussion remains private, shielded from any prying eyes or ears that might seek to use the information against us. It’s a smart move, one that speaks to her understanding of the delicate nature of the topics we’re about to broach.
I appreciate her foresight. However, I can’t help but wonder what other secrets she might be keeping, what other precautions she’s taken to ensure the sanctity of this meeting. The Deveraux heiress is a woman of many layers, and I have no doubt that her true intentions run deeper than what she chooses to reveal.
And so I lean forward, my gaze intent, my voice low and measured as I begin to share my knowledge of the Shadow Beings, the secrets I have spent a lifetime uncovering.
As our conversation progresses, I force myself to focus on Cassandra’s words, nodding at the appropriate moments, offering insights when prompted. But even as I speak, my mind is elsewhere, drawn back to the golden-haired beauty who has so thoroughly captivated my thoughts.
For I know, with a certainty that borders on prescience, that Clarissa holds the key to something I’ve been seeking for longer than I care to admit. And I will stop at nothing to possess it.
The game has begun, and the prize is more tantalizing than I ever could have imagined.
4
CLARISSA
Some encounters rewrite destiny in the space between one heartbeat and the next. I step into the library’s adjacent parlor, my heart racing, thoughts spinning with confusion and exhilaration. The encounter with this stranger has left me reeling, my skin still tingling from his touch. It was just a graze of his fingers against mine, a fleeting contact as he handed me the fallen book, but the effect was electric. Never before had I felt such an incredible rush of energy.
I’m so lost in my thoughts that I barely register Juliette’s presence until her voice cuts through the haze.
“Goodness, child. What’s the matter?” she asks, concern and amusement blending into her tone.
I blink, startled. Heat rises in my cheeks. I open my mouth to respond, but the words get stuck, tangled with the questions and sensations swirling in my mind.
Juliette’s brow furrows, her expression shifting from enjoyment to genuine worry. “Cat caught your tongue, dear?” she prods gently, patting the space beside her on the sofa in a silent invitation.
I shake my head, trying to clear the fog of confusion that seems to have settled over me. “I’m sorry,” I stammer, my voice sounding strange and distant to my ears. “I just... Oh, it’s nothing.”
As I speak, a flicker of hesitation stops me. It’s not that I don’t trust Juliette—she’s been my mentor and confidante since I arrived in Paris, guiding me through the Craft with unwavering dedication. But this feels different. Private. The moment I shared with the stranger seems intimate, a secret I want to keep close to my heart.
And then there’s my ability as a seer. For as long as I can remember, I’ve glimpsed people’s pasts and futures, sensed the threads of destiny that bind them. A gift that’s only grown stronger under Juliette’s patient guidance.
But with that man… there was nothing. No flashes of insight, no whispers of fate. Just a void—an emptiness I’ve never encountered. It’s as if he’s shielded from my sight, his path cloaked in shadows that no spell can pierce.
