Page 157 of Black Wing and Shadows
Instead, the first thing I saw was him.
My father.
General Blackcreek, my father, sat at ease in one of the duke’s chairs, a glass of amber liquor in his hand. Not a prisoner. Not a guest. Comfortable. At home. The duke sitting next to him was sipping on his own glass.
My breath stuttered. Zane stopped short beside me, his shoulders tightening like steel.
“Good of you to join us,” the duke said, his pale eyes flicking between us.
I hadn’t been able to move. Couldn’t breathe. “What—” My voice cracked. “What is he doing here?”
My father swirled his glass, the liquor catching the firelight. “Relax, Auri. If I meant you harm, you wouldn’t have walked through the door.” His gaze had been sharp, too sharp. “Though, you should know… the two of you haven’t been nearly as clever as you think.”
Zane stepped forward, jaw locked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
My father’s smirk hadn’t reached his eyes. “The mutiny you were trying to hide.” He lifted his glass in a mock toast. “You didn’t block it out well enough. I saw the edges. You need practice. You both do.”
My stomach twisted. Cold sweat prickled the back of my neck.
“Shit,” I choked out.
He shook his head slowly. “That’s not what we really call it anyway… We call it,” he looked at the duke, “the Resurrection of Yebel.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and dangerous, like a curse released into the room. Zane’s hand was still holding mine, his grip iron-hard, but I’d barely felt it. My father leaned forward, his voice lower now.
“Your mother was close, Auri. Too close. She pieced together more than anyone realized. But she didn’t get everything right. And when she brought her questions to the wrong ears…” He exhaled slowly, eyes sharp as glass. “I watched her die in front of me. By the King’s own hand and I had to pretend I didn’t know a damned thing, or he would have killed you, killed me, killed…”
The floor felt like it shifted under me. My knees locked to keep me upright, my chest burning with the weight of it.
And then—everything shattered.
The firelight guttered as shadows ripped free from the corners of the room, streaking like black lightning across the walls. They twisted, coiled, alive—wrapping cold around my arms, sliding across the duke’s desk, lashing upward.
One struck like a serpent, curling around my father’s throat and hoisting him from his chair. His glass shattered when it hit the floor, his face pale with panic as he clawed at the darkness.
“Auri!” Zane’s voice was ragged in my ear. “What areyou—”
But I hadn’t been doing anything. My heart hammered, my breath ragged in my chest, and still the shadows poured from me, endless and furious, answering some instinct I hadn’t known I had.
My father’s strangled sounds filled the room. “Shhhaaa—doowsss” he gasped out.
The duke surged to his feet, his pale eyes wide for the first time since I’d met him. “Gods, help us,” he breathed. “A shadow summoner.”
His gaze locked on me, sharp with awe and terror all at once. “There hasn’t been one in centuries.”
And then the room went still—every flame guttered low, every breath caught, the weight of my power choked the air.
I stared at my own hands, the shadows writhing around them like they’d been waiting for this moment.
And for the first time, I had been more afraid of myself than of anyone else.
Everyone in the room looked at me—like they were petrified of me.
