Page 287 of May: Bloom & Bane

Ashán winces as he looks down at where my finger is firmly planted against his chest. His shadows flatten against his bones like a dog tucking its tail.

I narrow my eyes at him. “You are literally doing it right now.”

I turn on my heel and march to the closet, grabbing the biggest bag I can find.

“Eden.” Ashán’s voice drops to a panicked whisper. Shadows flare at his feet, wrapping tightly around the closet doorframe. Sage’s vines coil around the handle before I can pull it open. “Mí’maru, stop.” They take an uncertain step toward me. “What are you doing?”

“Ílyara, please.”

“I am going to my sister’s cabin because apparently I have to relocate to get five minutes of peace.”

Frost spreads across the windows until they crack. If they were panicked before, they are entirely unhinged now. The mere mention of me leaving has Ashán’s shadows erupting into a solid wall between me and the door.

“No, ash’kaela. You cannot leave. Remember what happened last time you crossed the boundary line?”

“Eden, please. What if you went into labor?” Sage rasps. “Do not put yourself in danger because we are being overbearing.”

“I am not in danger!” I snap, turning around to face them. “I just want ten minutes where a shadow-tendril isn’t checking my blood pressure and moss isn’t growing under my toes!”

They flinch, and guilt slams into me.

Ashán slowly lowers his hands from the doorframe. The shadows between me and the exit thin out. “We will go.” His shadows give one last, longing brush against my ankles before retreating. “We will go downstairs. We will not look… or check your pulse.”

They don’t even peek into the room as they close the heavy oak door. I let out a long sigh, dropping my hands from my hips and letting my shoulders slump. I sink back into the plush mountain of pillows with an undignified moan. I brace a hand against my side, waiting for the telltale drop in temperature or the rush of panic through the bond. But to their credit, they remain silent.

I lean my head back against the cushions, letting the quiet wash over me. I dig into the pillows and find where I stashed the other matches. I light the candle and close my eyes. A mischievous whistle blows in from the other side of the window. My heart gives a sudden thud against my ribs. I lean forward, fingers digging into the ledge as I search the meadow.

Standing perfectly still beneath the trees… is a figure.

I blink hard, wondering if the third-trimester exhaustion is finally making me hallucinate. But he doesn’t disappear. He is clad in full, polished armor that gleams with a strange brilliance against the dull winter gray. The visor of his helm is drawn down, hiding his face. He lifts a gauntleted hand, his fingers dipping into the air in a casual salute. And though the glass is thick and the woods are a hundred yards away, a voice echoes right through the window.

“Two of twelve,” the voice murmurs through the visor of his helm. “The clock continues to turn.”

“Ash!” I yell, my voice cracking as I scramble backward, falling onto a cushion of moss. “Sage! Ashán!”

The bedroom door slams open so hard it splinters against the wall.

“Ash’kaela!”

They drop to their knees beside the window seat, their wings flaring wide enough to shield my whole body. Shadows gather around Ash’s arm, hardening into the wicked curve of his scythe.

“What happened?”

“There was someone out there.” I point at the window. “A knight.”

The window explodes outward in a shower of glittering glass. Emerald and shadow wings snap open, and then they’re gone.

My fingers curl around the splintered sill as I lean into the icy air, scanning the snow below for even the smallest flash of green or black. The canvas I painted of Eirlys flashes in my mind. The armor. The helm.

“He isn’t a threat!” I scream. “He was watching over Eirlys in my painting!”

CHAPTER 88

aunt winnie

Three weeks later⁠—

“What if she doesn’t like me?” I murmur.