Page 100 of Song of the Shadow Prince
“You can’t keep me here! I have to go back home!” she shouted, her voice trembling. “I don’t belong here!”
“No,” I cut her off. “You belong withme. I told you, Cat – no one can take you away from me, and that includes evenyou.”
The storm seemed to pause as if giving us a moment to breathe. Her chest heaved up and down in barely restrained fury as she held back tears and gritted her teeth.
I wrapped my arms around her and held her close, lending her my warmth. Rain continued to fall around us, but the force was less threatening now. She pushed me away and started topound on my chest, crying hysterically. I’d never seen her so undone before. “I’m sorry, Cat…” I murmured. “I’m sorry.”
“I hate you,” she growled. “I vow here and now that the first chance I get, I’ll kill you. So either you let me leave or prepare to die!”
I met her heated glare unflinchingly. “You can hate me, but I can’t let you go.”
“I’ll kill you,” she promised.
I held her in my arms, convinced of the sincerity of her threat, but I couldn’t find it in myself to care. She needed to stay here with me, and I would do everything possible to keep her. Even if it meant risking my own life.
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SNEAK PEEK
ARYA
My eyes fluttered open, and a sharp, blinding light seared into my vision. I groaned, trying to lift a hand to shield my face, but my arm felt like lead and I felt a pinch in my forearm. The air was thick with the smell of something bitter and unnatural—not the fresh, woody scent of the Ryder residence or even the crisp salt of the sea. Everything around me was wrong.
I blinked rapidly, forcing my eyes to adjust. The ceiling above me wasn’t stone carved by master masons or adorned with intricate tapestries. It was smooth, sterile white, like nothing I had ever seen. There was a needle inserted in my arm that led to some liquid bag overhead. The bed beneath me was soft in an unnerving way, and the fabric of the blanket felt strange against my skin, too smooth, too foreign.
A low hum filled the room—a sound that wasn’t wind or water or anything natural. It set my teeth on edge. I pushed myself up on weak arms, my breath hitching as the room tilted slightly. My heart pounded as I took in the alien surroundings: sleek furniture, glowing devices, walls that looked like polished ice but weren’t cold to the touch.
“Where am I?” I croaked, my voice hoarse and unfamiliar. My throat burned, and I clenched my fists against the irritation. Someone would pay for this indignity.
“Cat?” a voice called out, sharp and tentative. A woman appeared at the edge of the bed, her clothes an eyesore of mismatched colors and strange shapes. Tight trousers clung to her legs, paired with a loose shirt emblazoned with garish symbols. Her hair was short and wild, and her face was round and flushed. She looked like a jester who had wandered into my chambers by mistake.
I glared at her. “Who are you, and why are you in my room?”
The woman froze, her mouth falling open. “Uh… it’s me, Angie? Cat, are you okay?”
“Cat?” I snapped. “Who is Cat? My name is Arya Ryder, daughter of Lord Zacharia, Minister of Rites to the Emperor. How dare you address me so casually?”
The woman’s eyebrows shot up, and she let out a nervous laugh. “Okay, wow, you’re really leaning into this whole method acting thing, huh? Cat, come on. It’s me—Angie. Your best friend?”
“Best friend?” I repeated, incredulous. “As if someone likeyouwould befriend me. Enough of this nonsense. Where am I? What is this place?”
Her face twisted with concern, but there was something else—a flicker of doubt. “Cat, you’ve been in a coma for a month. Don’t you remember? The accident? The lake stunt?”
I blinked, my head throbbing as her words rushed past me like a torrent. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I certainly didn’t give you permission to interrogate me. I demand to speak to someone in charge. A steward. A healer.Anyonewith actual authority.”
Angie stared at me, her expression shifting from concern to irritation. “Okay, this isn’t funny. What’s wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me?” I echoed, my voice rising. “What’s wrong withyou?” I pointed at her accusingly, wincing at the pinch of the needle in my arm. “Who allowed you into my chambers? Why am I in this… this abominable room? And where is Maeve? She should have been the one to wake me.”
“Maeve?” Angie frowned. “What are you even…” She trailed off, her eyes narrowing. “Okay, seriously, what’s going on? You’re acting super weird. Did you hit your head harder than we thought?”
“I didn’t hit my head,” I snapped. “I fell into the water during the storm. My sister—” I stopped short, the memory flooding back. Gianna’s wide, pleading eyes. Her soft, trembling voice begging me to stop. She was always so perfect, so unbearably kind. The thought of her made my chest burn with resentment. “Never mind. Just tell me where I am.”
