Page 44 of The Wolf and Her Shadows

I’m fairly certain neither of us is even breathing at the moment. Somehow I manage to force myself to open our eyes. Her jaw is hanging slightly open while her wide eyes are darting all across our body. A wave of insecurity washes over me, and I unconsciously take a step back, crossing my arms. Unable to hold eye contact any longer, I allow my gaze to drift to the wall behind her.

A foolish mistake.

I suck in a breath, my reflection in the previously unnoticed mirror doing the same. It’s been so long since I’ve seen our true body that I hardly even recognize myself. I lift a hand to my cheek, no longer a pale grey, but instead so dark it appears black in the dim lighting of the room. My previously white hair is now a deep purple, the same color as the wine Aren enjoys drinking.

Exhaling shakily, I take a step closer to the mirror. Then another. I don’t stop until I can clearly see my entire torso. With trembling hands, I grab the hem of my loose cotton shirt and tug it over my head. I faintly hear Mariane gasp, but I’m so absorbed in my own reflection that I hardly notice.

Every scar we have is now dimly glowing purple. The small jagged one beside our right eye. The slightly thicker one on the left side of our jaw, courtesy of a ring worn by one of our previous bounties. Numerous larger ones caused by either blades, claws, or whatever else someone had seen fit to harm us with.

And most notably, the ones we received in our earliest childhood memory. The runes that allow us to change our appearance. To stay hidden. Carved into our skin the night after our fifth birthday.

The only thing unchanged is my violet eyes, which are brimming with tears for the third time tonight.

Mariane clears her throat, startling me back to ‘reality’. I glance over at the woman, blinking rapidly in an attempt to fight off both the tears and mental fog now threatening to consume me.

She shakes her head, seemingly still stunned into silence. After a, somewhat awkward, moment of us simply staring at one another, she whispers, “You truly are a Nightshade.”

My lips curl up into a snarl. “I’m a Noxumbra.” I grit my teeth, my hands clenching into fists. “A Nightshadow Elf. And a foolish one at that, thinking you would–”

“Vannaria, no.” Mariane reaches out and firmly grasps my wrist. “I’m sorry. I meant no offense. It was the name I’d most often heard when living with my father and it’s been so long since…” She allows her explanation to trail off, knowing she need not finish it.

Forcing back my rising anger, I slowly unclench both my jaw and my hands. “I assure you, I heard the term Nightshade quite often myself.” I swallow down the bile rising in my throat. “Men, women, children, and everything in between still whisper it as they would a ghost story. And it’s always the same thing. How glad they are, how relieved, that every last one of the soulless Nightshades have been reduced to ashes.”

Smiling sadly, she places her free hand in the center of my chest and whispers, “Well, those bastards were all woefully incorrect. Not only is there at least one Noxumbran left, they have three souls within them.” Letting go of my wrist, Mariane takes my hand instead, entwining our fingers. “And they’re quite possibly the kindest souls I’ve ever met.”

My knees buckle, her quiet words hitting me so forcefully it knocks the air from my lungs. I clear my throat, twice, before rasping, “Their kindness pales in comparison to yours, Your Majesty.”

Pulling me closer, she exchanges the hand on my chest for soft lips as she places a featherlight kiss on my skin. “While I appreciate the sentiment, that’s untrue. My kindness is reserved for only my most loyal of subjects.” Tilting her head playfully, she hums, “And perhaps their friends.”

Blinking back tears, I whisper, “Well, I’m glad you find us deserving of it.” Clearing my throat for a third time, I nod towards the bed. “Please allow me to finish your massage now, Your Majesty. The hour grows late and I fear we will not get adequate rest if we do not sleep soon.”

“Do you always get this formal and pretentious when you’re flustered?” she asks, her brows lifting.

I nod, heat creeping up the back of my neck from being called out on the peculiar habit.

A bright smile spreads across Mariane’s face. “My gods, you’re adorable. Absolutely ridiculous, but adorable.” Giggling softly, she places another kiss on my chest. “And yes, this queen needs her beauty rest, so I would very much appreciate it if my loyal subject would continue my nightly massage to help my sleep come easier. And I fear I’ve grown spoiled and will also be requiring you to hold me afterwards as well.”

My own lips twitch up into a small smile. “Whatever Her Majesty wishes.”

I’m awoken by the sound of a soft knock at our door. Tightening my arm around Mariane’s waist, I nuzzle further into her sea of black hair, intending to ignore it and go back to sleep. There’s another knock, louder this time. Groaning, I blink my eyes open just so that I can glare at the door.

“Yes,” I croak, voice still laced with sleep.

“Sorry to wake you, but I brought you both breakfast,” Rosaline replies, her own voice barely above a whisper, knowing I’ll be able to hear her.

Swallowing down a sigh, I carefully pull away from the sleeping woman next to me and slowly climb off the end of the bed. While I’m glancing around the room for the shirt I’d discarded last night, my eyes happen to land back on the mirror. For a moment, I simply stare at my reflection, frozen, until I manage to pull my gaze away and force myself to whisper the command words to reactivate our glamour.

Scooping up the shirt I find halfway hidden under the bed, I tug it over my head and make sure Mariane’s half-naked body is fully covered by the blankets before opening the door. As promised, there’s a tray piled high with food in the devilkin’s hands and my stomach growls in anticipation of what will no doubt be yet another delicious meal.

Giggling quietly, Rosaline holds out the tray for me to take and whispers, “Our shop’s already open now.” When I accept the food, she glances over my shoulder at the still-sleeping Mariane. “Whenever y’all are ready to head out, stomp on the floorboards three times and I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come down. PaMa figured you wouldn’t wanna take any chances of being seen by the wrong people.”

Clutching the handles of the tray a little tighter, I nod. “They figured right. But, I would like to talk to them a bit more before we leave. I’m afraid I have yet another favor to ask.”

“I’ll let them know.” The devilkin’s lips curl up into a grin. “I’m sure whatever it is, they'll be more than happy to help. I haven’t seen them this excited in ages.”

I chuckle softly, lowering my gaze to the delicious smelling food. “We’ll see how excited they still are after I’ve asked my favor.”

“I’ll send ‘em up in a bit.” She reaches out and lightly touches my elbow. “Enjoy your breakfast, Vannaria.”