Page 18 of Queen of Whispers and Mist

She glanced down at Shadow, still cradled against his chest, and grinned, true affection shining in her gaze, reminding him once more that despite her prickly demeanor, the woman was on his side. Voice gentler than he’d ever heard, she patted his cheek and said, “You did good, lad. Now, let’s introduce you to the crew.”

CHAPTER7

SHADOW

“Come, young blood. It’s time for your lessons.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Ry doesn’t have to go to special lessons.”

“Ryder isn’t going to be queen one day. You are.”

“I don’t want to be queen, mama. I want to be the wind.”

Surprised laughter met the words. “The wind?”

“Like you, mama. When you step off the nest and poof to the ground.”

“Oh, you mean when I call on the mist.” There was a soft hum. “Well, I suppose you’re old enough. Would you like me to show you how it’s done?”

“You mean I can do it too?”

“Oh, yes, young blood. That is the very least of what you are capable of. Come. It’s time for you to learn about who you truly are.”

Shadow shifted restlessly, cheeks damp with tears she couldn’t yet feel. Rolling to her side, the dream—which was nothing more than disembodied voices—changed. The voices were different this time. Distinctly male, but disorientating and hard to follow. Two halves of an unrelated conversation, like actors given scripts from two conflicting plays and instructed to perform anyway.

“Shall I make you purr, kitten?”

“Do not forget who you belong to, Shadow mine.”

“I’ll make you feel so fucking good.”

“Why do you always make me hurt you?”

“I’ll give you everything you want. Just say the word.”

“Say it. Do not make me ask again.”

“Say you’re mine.”

“You’re mine.”

“I’ll never let you go.”

“You’ll never be free of me.”

Shadow jerked upright, heart racing, a film of sweat coating her body and making her clothes cling to her. Her head ached, and the sudden shift in position made her stomach roll.

Or was that the ground? Why was everything... rocking?

A quick glance through slitted eyes confirmed she was not in bed... nor her bedroom... nor the palace. She groaned, pressing the heels of her palms to her eye sockets, trying to alleviate some of the relentless throbbing.

What happened last night?

Try as she might, she could find no answer to the question. Not for last night, or any concrete day prior. The last thing she remembered was standing on a balcony looking up at the stars, and who knew how long ago that was.

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