Page 38 of Prisoner of Steel and Shadow

One not even she could forget.

CHAPTER12

SHADOW

People were still talking about him an hour later. She’d never seen anything like it, flames dancing in his hands. Called there and controlled by him. Could everybody do that where he was from? Or was he special? His hair had reminded her of fire, and now she wondered if it was somehow related to his gift or simply a coincidence.

Realizing she was obsessing over him, Shadow scowled. She’d come out to the garden to get away from talk of the contest. Okay, fine—of him.

Not that it worked on either account.

What she should be thinking about was the fact that there was a threat to her lord she had been ill-equipped to meet. That fireball had been lobbed through the air before she even registered what was happening. But even if she had, what good were her daggers against a ball of molten fire? The simple truth was, if the Butcher hadn’t extinguished it, Erebos would have gone up in flames. She would have failed her most sacred duty.

More troubling—and perhaps more selfish—than that, there was a very good chance she’d have to go up against him in the days to come. She could very easily be on the other side of that fiery orb. What had seemed so simple, so straightforward, a mere two nights ago suddenly seemed like a far bigger challenge.

“Starling for your thoughts?”

For a second, Shadow allowed his deep growl of a voice to wash over her, basking in its warmth as a little shiver raced down her spine before steeling herself against it. And him. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been thinking of him nearly nonstop since the day before. And not because he was a threat to the High Lord.

His fascination with her. His insistence that he knew her, that she was someone else. It should have her running the other way. Instead, she felt a slight pang that she wasn’t the woman who had him looking like he’d been twisted into knots.

He must care about her very deeply.

“They aren’t worth that much,” she finally said, turning to face him.

Clearly, he hadn’t gotten the message about tonight’s gala being a formal event. His clothes were clean, but nothing like the lavish fashions back in the ballroom. She wondered if that was because they didn’t make such elaborate garments in his size. He was quite... large. Still, she found his fitted black leather breeches and simple black shirt he’d left unfastened at the throat and rolled up over his forearms uncommonly attractive. As was the lone decoration he wore strapped to his wrist. The simple leather cuff had some sort of sigil pressed into its smooth surface, but the lanterns were too few and far between for her to make out any further detail from here.

And his hair... he’d worn the silky mane down tonight, with a few strands pulled back and tied into an elaborate knot. Her fingers itched with the desire to run through it and see if it was as warm as it looked.

Everything about him fascinated her. Drew her in. Seduced her senses.

Especially the potently male scent of him. The men of court practically bathed themselves in colognes, but not this one. He smelled of sunshine and embers and leather. He called to mind images of a campfire after a long day’s ride. A place she could curl up and find peace.

Instead of endearing her to him, it had the opposite effect. She grew suspicious, her every instinct on high alert. She couldn’t relax around him, or worse, grow attached to him. He was an opponent. If someone else didn’t kill him, she’d eventually have to.

That a girl, Shadow. Nothing like impending death to put things back into perspective.

“Let me be the judge of that,” he said belatedly, making her realize he’d been sizing her up just as thoroughly as she had him.

Since she couldn’t exactly admit her every thought recently had been consumed by him, she asked a question of her own instead. “What are you doing out here?”

“I wanted some fresh air.”

“So you didn’t follow me?” she asked, cocking her brow and crossing her arms around her waist.

“If I promise I didn’t, will you stop fingering the blade hidden along your side?”

Her lips parted in a surprised huff of laughter and then curled up in a rare, genuine smile. “No, but don’t be offended because of it. One of my weapons is always within reach when I find myself cornered in the dark by a stranger.”

His lips twitched. “You’re hardly cornered.” He gestured to the maze of plants stretching out in every direction and the palace looming behind him. “You are free to leave whenever you’d like.”

“I’ll amend. One of my weapons is always within reach. Full stop.”

“Fair enough.” He tilted his head forward, lowering his voice, “You should know it’s the same for me.”

“Well, you should probably know that Iama weapon.”

“I’ve been told the same.”

---