Page 88 of The Shadow Prince's Ruin
After five years in prison, that sounds dreadful, but if the thick walls keep me from hurting my lovely prince, I’ll take it.
Chapter 35
Hawk
Itry not to think about the future. That’s what always kept me going when things went sideways, but while the form of the Sunwolf lets my thoughts clear, each passing second feels like a step toward the inevitable. My senses sharpen, detecting sounds, smells, and flavors I’ve never before noticed, but even with the abundance of animals in the forest, I feel like the most delicious morsel of all is on my back.
Sylvan’s shadow is faint, pale, and smooth like whipped cream with just the right amount of sugar and spice that’s so uniquely him. A tiny snack, really, when compared to the magnitude of the shadow making up Tristan Bloodweed’s wings, but I want it all the same. Its touch makes my skin tingle, and I long for its essence in the blood pumping through my husband’s small form.
It scares me how easily I can imagine myself diving my muzzle into his open rib cage, and lapping its insides as if it were a cup of yogurt, not the body of the man who I—
A frantic yelp leaves my throat as I shake off the image my mangled brain sees as both horrifying and enticing. He’s not safe with me. Not the way I am now.
“It’s all right, my love. We’re almost there,” Sylvan says, unaware of the dangerous thoughts crowding my mind. I try to remember each time he speaks to me this way. It makes me feel like I’m truly special, someone worthy of being chosen, and I let it be my comfort.
Would he run from me if he knew? Or would he have stayed despite it? I'd rather not test that in what might be our last hours together.
I wouldn’t call the castle ‘familiar’, but at least it’s a place I already know. We explored it a little last night, so we know that it’s abandoned.
Then again, tonight, it might become my home, and a place of doom for any elf foolish enough to cross the threshold. I dread to think about spending the rest of my life stuck in yet another prison, but it’s the loneliness of it that truly terrifies me. If my consciousness isn’t consumed by the Sunwolf, then I might go mad because of the isolation. I’ve never been someone who likes spending a lot of time on his own. Even if I’m not talking all the time, I long for touch and company.
Another thought hits me as I transform in front of the gate.
“If you lock me in there, what will I eat?”
Sylvan strokes my hand and pulls me in. “As the Sunwolf, you will not need to eat material food.”
I want to whine and complain that Iliketo eatmaterial food, but hearing that is the last burden Sylvan needs.
I dash inside the castle, and then down two flights of dusty stairs. We were down here last night, but the huge circular door facing us now was the limit of our exploration. My vision is quite decent even now, but the swamplight flickering to life inside a lamp attached to the wall reveals the deep grooves marking thehuge entrance. It’s an artwork—a depiction of wolf men dancing under the moon.
The unbearable heat returned the moment I regained my smooth skin and fingers, but that only means I need to act fast. The door doesn’t seem to come with any handle though, and I growl, smacking my palm against it. The thing is so damn thick we barely hear any echo inside.
I’m about to complain when something clicks, and I put my ear against the cool surface.
“Does it work?” Sylvan asks, prompting me to look back his way. I haven’t paid attention to anything beyond the door itself, but far away from it, by the stairs, is a mechanism embedded in the floor. Sylvan puts his entire body weight on the lever attached to it, and the sharp noise is back.
I want to kiss him.
“That’s it! That must be the way to unlock the dungeon!”
“Come over. I need some of that superior strength.” He smiles at me—for the first time since the disaster with Lepearl and her kelpies.
Pride fills my chest, and I join him by the device, intent on moving the lever. When raw strength doesn’t do the trick, he admits he carries a bit of oil, to aid our lovemaking, and we use some of it on the mechanism. The process still takes a lot of effort, but the vault door finally cracks open, its lock released after at least a hundred years of inactivity.
Sylvan’s instinct is to crawl through it, but I keep him back and widen the gap leading into the dungeon before settling next to it and letting myself inspect the hidden space.
It’s cold and damp, but there is no life I can sense, just fungi, moss, and old bones.
Sylvan follows me, his cool fingers sliding into my hand. My whole being knows he belongs at my side, and yet he will leaveme in this cold prison. He has to. I want that for his own safety. Every minute he’s still here feels stolen.
I need him as far away from the Nocturne Court as possible, so he can live a good life, and maybe sometimes think back to me, smiling.
The massive chamber has a tall, vaulted ceiling, and Sylvan slips out of my grasp to light all the swamplight torches by the rows of cells. Behind thick metal bars, corpses have long been devoured by time, leaving behind only bones and chains. I can’t help but stop to stare at the skeleton of a creature with a canine skull and a humanoid body.
Will this be me in two hundred year’s time?
Sylvan grabs a torch and walks across the stone floor, all the way to the end of the long corridor of cells.
