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I press my mouth to her neck, needing to taste her. I think I’ve crossed some invisible fucking line, but she lets me.
“You’re so soft, Nel. A wolf can easily eat you alive,” I mutter to her skin, drawing shivers from it.
“I’m not scared of wolves.” She pinches her fingers together and makes a shadow puppet of a dog. “Woof.”
What if one catches you and never let go?
Shadows swell around us and Coinneach makes his second appearance of the day.
Aww… fuck.
He’s been clawing beneath my skin to meet her. The Lord of Night is usually the least rebellious compared to the others, but he is an opportunist. He sees a chance to slip out and he takes it.
The bastard creates a shadow of a rabbit hopping in a meadow. Rhianelle chomps it with her shadow wolf.
That was unexpected.
Coinneach creates another one. She eats it again, laughter bubbling from her throat. I can’t help but join her. The strange sound of my own laughter echoing in the cavern catches me off guard.
Shadows expand around our campfire, undulating like ocean waves.
Show off,I mutter to the shadow spirit.
But I let him continue to perform and entertain her.
“This almost feels like an actual theatre,” she says, her eyes coruscating with awe and delight. “It’s beautiful.”
That’s not the word I would use to describe these creatures sacrificed to the Rhunhraefn. The Night Lord’s gift is perfect forslaughter and torture. But for the first time in my existence, it’s being used to cheer someone.
She breaks into another laughter when Coinneach creates hundreds of shadow rabbits in the light of the campfire.
For a moment I bask in that smile, letting her light banish all the rotten parts in my soul. But it is impossible. Some darkness cannot be infiltrated even by the brightest of stars.
I am broken.
Irreparable and beyond redemption.
Suddenly, the pain in that gaping hole in my chest becomes unbearable and I snap. I reel the shadow demon back into me out of spite. He goes frantic at the pull.
Please… Let me shake her hand first,Coinneach begs.
I relent to his wish.
The Lord of Night takes Rhianelle’s soft hand into his. A shadowy wisp of his finger moves, stroking her palm as he writes his name there.
“K E N,” she spells out the runes from his touch. “Ken? Is that your name?”
Kennaugh. Coinneach. Close enough.
He nods eagerly.
“Hi, Ken.” She pats the dark void, giggling when it curls around her. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
I’ve never seen a shadow smile, but that’s exactly what the Lord of Night does when she hugs him.
The sight of her embracing him warms me far more than it should. Coinneach disappears into mists and returns into me willingly.
“That was nice… the best,” she says. Rhianelle burrows herself into my chest like it’s the most natural thing to do. “You feel good too, Svenn. So warm…”
