Page 5 of Skyshade
She lowered her blade the slightest bit. That, she hadn’t expected. “Saved them from what?” The dreks were their biggest threat in the past, but they were gone. Grim had banished them below, and hidden the sword again, just as she had asked.
“Storms,” he said simply. “The deadliest you can imagine.”
It was the first she was hearing of this. And she had explored Nightshade for a year before the Centennial.
He must have sensed her confusion, because he said, “They used to happen every few centuries, on and off, then decades, then every few years. They are unpredictable, and every one has gotten worse. Hundreds die during the storm season.”
Hundreds? She frowned, and he nodded.
“It’s not just the weather. They bring sickness. Creatures. Entire villages have been razed by beasts in the night. The tempests are deadlier than the curses, even. The dreks appeared during one of them, and never left.”
“How do you know there will be a storm season?”
“There are signs,” he said. “The tides change. Certain animals burrow themselves. It lasts about three months. The whole winter this time, if I had to guess.”
Isla swallowed. Hundreds of Nightshades were in danger, then.
Perhaps they were already doomed. Her own lifespan was uncertain...if she killed Grim to fulfill the prophecy, all of them would perish...
No. She refused to accept that fate. The oracle had made it seem like her future was etched in stone, but if there was a way around it, she would find it.
“I’ll help you. I’ll help you stop the storms.”
He raised a brow at her. “You don’t think I’ve tried?”
“You’ve never tried with me.” They had worked together before. The memories of it blinded her for a moment. Her breath became unsteady. “Work with me. Buy us more time, enough for us to find another solution that isn’t the portal.”
Buy her enough time to change her fate.
He hesitated. Then, nodded.
She sighed, leaning back, only to realize she was still pinning him with her legs.
Grim’s gaze slowly slid down her body, catching on the hem of her dress, riding high up her thigh. Her skin prickled with cold.
For a moment, she imagined his hand curling around her hip, dragging her forward against every inch of him. She imagined arching her back, pulling her dress over her head and—
It wasn’t her imagination, she realized. It was a memory of something they had done, and her cheeks burned. Grim watchedher with darkened eyes, his hands firmly glued to the sides of his throne.
He was her enemy. She was disgusted by her thoughts.
Forget burying her feelings. She needed to smother them. Burn them.
She stood, straightening her dress. “Tomorrow, then.” She gave her sweetest smile. “If I find out your threat of Lightlark is real, I’ll find a use for all those pretty blades you left for me in my room.” There were rows of them, all perfectly angled to fit the many slim pockets in the pants that hung in her wardrobe. “Just because we’re married, don’t think I won’t gut you.”
Only when she reached the door did she hear him say, “I would expect nothing less, wife.”
FORGE
Before she worked with Grim to stop the storms, she needed to do something for herself.
Burying her feelings hadn’t worked, not really. She couldn’t trust herself to keep them in check, and she now knew the ruin they could cause when mixed with her abilities.
She needed to ensure she would never kill another innocent again. She needed to keep her powers contained.
Only one person knew how to create such an enchantment, and the last time she’d seen him, she’d stabbed a knife through his eye.
“Here to take the other one?” the blacksmith said. He was sitting in his forge, back turned to her as he polished something on his worktable. Even seated, he was more than a head taller than her.
