Page 51 of The Prince and His Stolen Groom
She dodged another attack from the not-dragon. “How do I defeat a shadow creature if I can’t touch it?”
“You don’t even knowthat?” he demanded.
“Why would I? We haven’t had to fight these things since my grandfather’s time!”
“You know, sometimes I wonder if this defense spell hasn’t done your kingdom a great disservice. You’ve become so vulnerable the second it fails.”
The claws barely missed her this time. She slashed through the extended wrist with no effect. “Just tell me!”
“Alright, alright. Give the sword to your shadow and let her do the work for you.”
Teeth snapped shut an inch from her exposed head as Kit dropped to the ground. She searched the area around her frantically before shouting, “I don’t have a shadow! There’s no goddamn light!”
“Ah,thatI can help you with,” the wizard said. Then he banged his staff on the ground once and the blue light expanded in a sphere large enough to encase the whole clearing.
Kit saw her own black outline in the dirt and shoved the sword at what vaguely looked like her hand. She expected the sword to lie unmoving on the ground, because it was an utterly stupid idea. Instead, her own shadow fingers wrapped around the hilt, and the blade lifted into the air.
“Act quickly!” the Good Wizard warned. “I can only hold this for another thirty seconds, and then your shadow will disappear!”
“Fools!” the shadow dragon snarled, lunging for Kit again. “Fools, all of you! I will devour you! I will consume your meat and bones and souls!”
Not sure what else to do, Kit closed her own hand like she still held the sword’s hilt, then swung for the not-dragon’s neck. The sword flew through the air, guided by her shadow hand. She could barely see the outline, the creature’s darkness almost swallowing the silhouette.
That time, the sword met flesh—or something like it. Black blood spurted onto Kit’s face as the sword sliced through the long neck and came out the other side.
Everything came to a standstill. The blue light faded, and the sword clattered to the ground. Kit waited to see if it worked, or if the shadowcreature would somehow repair itself. A second passed, then two, then seventeen.
Until finally the shadow slowly disbursed, the shape fading away as it joined the darkness surrounding them.
The wizard clapped politely. “Well done.”
Kit wiped her brow and picked the sword back up. She didn’t have a way to sheathe it, but she didn’t give it back to the wizard either.
She walked up to the door and saw that the vines had conveniently wilted away once the shadow guardian had been defeated. Since it was Rick’s private tower, even though she wanted to burst in and check on everyone, she knocked and patiently waited.
No answer.
She tried the door handle, but it wouldn’t budge, locked tight.
“Rick? Brendon?” No answer. “Something’s wrong,” she muttered. “What if the vines got in and they’re both unconscious? Or dying? We’ve got to find some way inside!”
“Allow me,” the wizard said, brushing her aside. Clearing his throat, he raised his staff, mumbled some nonsense words, and then cried, “Open!”
The door exploded off its hinges and flew to the other side of the room. Kit brandished her sword and rushed into the tower, a knight ready to save her prince.
She skidded to a halt when she found Brendon pushing Rick down into the couch, both of their mouths streaked with red, their expressions shocked and guilty.
Somehow, instead of rescuing her best friend, she had ended up cockblocking him.
Prince Brendon Narrates Again
The taste of blood lingered in Brendon’s mouth. He sat in a chair, leg bouncing in agitation, as the Good Wizard hovered over Rick who sat on the couch, mouth wide open and tongue hanging out.
“May I remind you all that I am not a healer,” the wizard said sternly even as he patched Rick up. “I am a Great and Powerful Wizard of the Old Council. My magic is not meant to be used for such trivialities.”
“I’n thorry, Good Izzard.”
Rick’s mangled words made Brendon flinch. Hurting his future husband—if they could ever work their way toward that goal—was not a good way to begin their relationship. Well, kidnapping was arguably a worse way. Now that he thought about it, they were several bad steps into the venture already with little good to speak of.
