Page 50 of Born into Darkness

“It’s not safe here.” Phantom breathed hard in my ear.

Shaken and upset, I didn’t resist as he carried me out of the infirmary wing and back to my room, where he set me on the bed. Hot, blinding tears streamed down my face.

What had I done? This was all my fault. I had to do something before it was too late. Before the other hunters came for me.

Phantom held me, comforting me, a firm shoulder to weep on. He brushed hair from my eyes, pressing his lips to the back of my head, whispering, “Shhhh.”

He truly was an angel. Where had he been when I’d needed his salvation in the cell? I clung to him, squeezing him, my fingers digging into his flesh. But he never complained. Just held me tight.

“I once found a pouch of coins from the dark ages,” he said out of the blue.

“What?” I lifted my head and sat back to face him. Why was he telling me this?

“Uncovered them when I was digging aqueduct trenches,” he said.

I still didn’t understand why he’d chosen now to divulge this information, but I loved artifacts and wanted to know more. “What era?”

“The great war,” he said.

Millennia ago, two great royal dynasties had owned most of Haven between them. Consumed by greed, they’d turned on each other, waging war for more territory and hoping to gain control of the entire realm. Backed by armies of thousands of shifters, they’d fought for domination, leaving much bloodshed in their wake. Finally, the shifters had formed an alliance, refusing to fight for factions that had held them as slaves for hundreds of moon cycles. Those soldiers still loyal to the families had been annihilated, and one family had been wiped out. The other had retreated, crossing the sea, aided by their few remaining friends. When the alliance had arrived too late, they’d destroyed the last of the bloodline’s allies. All the shifter races and the humans then formed a council. From there, Haven had been divided into seven realms.

“Do you still have them?” I leaned closer to Phantom.

“My father’s a history teacher, and he collects ancient artifacts. His wall was full of bow and arrows, swords, daggers—all kinds of weapons from that age. When I was younger, he took me to the runes of the ancient bloodlines and told me all about the architecture, the culture, and their society. That trip founded my love for all things historical. We sold most of his collection,” Phantom admitted, “to buy my father and me a home. But I kept some coins for myself.”

At this news, I perked up, Shadow and Flare a distant memory. “I’d love to see them,” I told him, launching into an explanation of my papa’s collection of ancient daggers and swords.

Phantom’s face lit up.

“But I’m sure my stepmother has sold them all by now,” I said. “She hated them…said they reminded her of dark times she’d rather forget.”

My imagination ran riot at the prospect of everything my stepmother had destroyed in my father’s home. All those memories crumbled to dust and blew away into the dark skies of my mind. I ducked my head and played with my fingers. Memories were all I had to cling to now to remember him by. Remember my home. Remember my people. Remember my king and the sea god. My heart sat heavy in my chest.

Phantom’s hands clasped my face. For once, I wasn’t frightened as he lifted my chin to gaze into my eyes. Slowly, he leaned in, his lips glossing mine, sending a zing tearing through me.

But the kiss was short-lived as the door burst open, and we both jumped back.

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