Page 11 of How to Claim A Shadow King

“I can be fun.” I glare at the bird, rolling my shoulders back.

Ter flaps his wings to stay seated. “I’m sure that you think that’s true.”

“Rude.” I shake my head and decide to keep walking. The garden grows busier the further into it I go, with giant purple alliums blooming in robust balls, buzzing with bees, flanked by sapphire salvia and the ever-present milky-pink roses. Statues and follies are placed artfully around, but I don’t pause to stare at the marble busts and weathered faces.

“I take it that you have no idea of the compact you must take part in,” Ter says.

I ignore him.

“You’re walking right towards the same place you always go to.”

That stops me in my tracks. A dragonfly lands on my nose, and I brush it off in severe irritation. “What are you on about?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Ter says archly, and I swear to god, if the raven had eyebrows, his would be at an absolutely devastating angle right now.

“Wonderful,” I tell the nuisance of a bird. “If you don’t mind, I’d like some privacy. It has been a very trying afternoon.”

“I do mind,” Ter tells me.

I keep walking, though I’m slower now, something about his words pinging around my skull too loudly.

The same place I always go to.

“Malakai said I’m a witch.”

“Oh, are you two already on first name terms, then?”

I scowl and walk faster, leaves and detritus crunching under my slippers. They’ll be ruined now, along with my dress, but I can’t find it in me to give one single solitary damn about my slippers.

“I am not a witch.”

“Of course you are,” the raven says, letting a low whistling noise that I belatedly realize is a laugh. “That’s why you’re here. You wouldn’t have me as your familiar if you weren’t.”

I keep walking, growing more and more irritated with every step. A wayward vine snags my hair, and I loose an unladylike curse as I tug my hair free.

“You’ll be late for dinner if you keep this up. Malakai won’t like it if you’re late.”

“I don’t care what he thinks!” I yell at the bird, now beyond manners. “He abducted me into a castle then had the audacity to ask me to mate with him, not even a hello or a how do you do, just, oh yes, you’re promised to me,” I do my best impression of his deep, raspy voice. “Shall we mate now or later?”

I glare at the bird, who’s doing that weird laugh again.

“I would prefer now,” a male voice says from behind me.

“Damn it all to hell,” I yell, staring at the fiery sunset breaking on the horizon.

Malakai’s right behind me.

Blushing is not the right word for what is happening to my skin. It’s a conflagration of horrified fire across my chest, red and angry, and I’m sure blotchy, as it tends to be when I’m really and truly upset.

“Why is she angry and red?” Malakai asks. It takes me a minute to realize he’s addressing the damned oversized pigeon of a raven on my shoulder.

“You’ve embarrassed her, Shadow King.”

“Because I want her in my bed?” he asks, and I make a horrified choking sound.

Neither of them seem to care.

“I believe the witch would prefer a courtship period⁠—”