Page 37 of The Shadow Prince's Ruin
My mouth goes slack under the mask, but I nod and join Sylvan, who’s helping himself to some water from a fountain in the corner. “That guy we’re looking for… you sure he’ll be there? This lady says the bar’s no longer open,” I tell him in a low voice.
Sylvan smells his cinnamon pretzel and his pointy, sunburned ears twitch like he’s a happy kitty. “It might look that way, but I know a way in, don’t worry.”
I get myself a cheap coffee from a machine, because I’m pretty sure this will be another long night, and we sit at a small table.
“How do you know he’ll be in? Do you have a number we can call?” I ask, pushing my foot between Sylvan’s. The chair’s narrow and keeps digging into my flesh, no matter how many times I shift around in it, so I just accept my fate and focus on the positives—like Sylvan’s sugar-dusted smile.
His eyes light up when he bites in. “Oooh! Very good. I will miss this when we leave. Not too sweet, the dough has a bit of crunch at the edges—Yes, the grimsmith. If he does have a phone number, I don’t know it. But it’s where he works. I very much doubt he will be anywhere else than at his workshop.” Sylvan leans closer and lowers his voice. “He was banished almost thirty years ago before I was even born, but my family finds it important to know of people like him.”
Of course they do.
Because Sylvan is a prince from a royal line that’s been attempting to take over the throne of the Nocturne Court for almost a thousand years, blah, blah, blah—
“You can tell me if he’s an ex, or something. People don’t always have sex within BDSM settings,” I try to encourage him to speak the truth.
He looks genuinely insulted, but why else would he be wearing a collar welded around his neck? Sylvanmusthave been up to something to end up in this position, and the innocent ice prince face can’t fool me. I’m not judging him for it either. I just need to know what to expect so that I can protect him better.
“I’m not sure what ‘beediesem’ settings are, but he and I were most definitely not involved in any way. I don’t even know what state he is in after thirty years in the human realm. I dread to imagine it, really, but last time I heard of him, he was alive, even if banished for life. You see this?” He points to a tiny engraving on the collar. Increasingly disgruntled, I nod. “This is the Nightweed crest, a brand of the Nocturne Court’s Lord. If I enter the Nightmare Realm without taking it off, I will be hunted. The grimsmith, Tassarion, has one like it on his skin, as he is never allowed back. Frankly, I find it an injustice to be sentenced to fifty years, when it’s my brother who schemed against Lord Kyran—”
“Can you be very honest with me this one time, Sylvan?” I ask, and when he lowers his chin, staring at me, I go on, content that I have his attention. “Do you actually believe any of this, or is this some kind of full-time role-play situation?”
He goes still, doesn’t even chew, and his pupils grow wider as if I’ve dropped a splash of ink into the dark blue. “Hawk. Are you saying you’ve not believed me all this time?” Sylvan swallows and clenches his jaw.
I don’twantto confront him about it, I really don’t, but what the fuck am I supposed to do when my life could be on the line? I might have picked a better moment for it, but it’s not like I can reverse time now.
“You claim to be an elf from another world. How can I believe that? I thought we’re… acting out your fantasy,” I mumble, leaning back as his mouth trembles. I hate how disappointed in me he looks, but that expression is soon replaced by a growing frown, which… yeah, does make him resemble an offended royal.
“How dare you? I have given you my body. We have made promises! It will be full moon in the Nightmare Realmtomorrow, and you’re questioning my intentions? Worse, you don’t even believe in them?”
I hate how the mask muffles my voice, so I pull it under my chin and lean toward him. “Look, you’re great, but I have no reason to believe all this fantastical stuff, do I? You wouldn’t be the first guy to believe he’s something he's not. This dude in my prison believed he was taken by aliens every night, andthatwas a load of shit.”
Sylvan gets up, probably to look at me from above for once. Fire dances in his blue eyes, but we need to talk about all this sooner rather than later. “Did you make your promise to become my Dark Companion because you thought it to be of no meaning?”
I clear my throat and take note of the shop owner glaring at us. “I figured you liked me as much as I liked you.”
“‘Liking’ is of no consequence, Hawk! You are on the cusp of pledging your shadow to me. Binding your life to mine. Our mutual attraction and shared desire are only a lucky twist of destiny.”
I’m the one who should be angry, but when I sense the scorch of his disappointment on me, it’s like being lashed.
I have such a weakness for him.
“Look, I will believe when I see proof, but you gotta admit it’s kinda difficult, no?”
Sylvan is so flushed his whole face is rosy, but his voice is like ice. “Fine,” he grits out through his teeth. “But until your shadowis bound to mine, my body is not yours to toy with. I will not be made a fool.”
Despite my best intentions, I roll my eyes, because he’ll be under me before we work out the level of his delusion, and we both know it. He’s drawn to me just as much as I am to him.
“Why are you like this? I’m not trying to cheat you. In fact, I asked this question because I feel you're too deep into the whole elf thing, and I’m worried!”
“Because my whole life I’ve not been taken seriously, and here you are, mypromised, doing the same!”
I get up as soon as I see his eyes glazing over.
“Sylvan, I do take you seriously, but wouldyoubelieve me if I told you we could live on the moon, without seeing any proof?” I ask and reach out for him, only to have my hand brushed off.
“Don’t!”
I flinch, feeling as if he’s struck me.
