Shadows and Shade Box Set

by Amanda Cashure

  Now it’s Pax’s turn to take an interest in everyone wearing boots.

  “You didn’t stop him?”

  “We were giving him five more minutes,” Roarke says.

  “He went for a long toilet break,” Killian says.

  Pax’s eyes flash with a golden ring around his black iris – the beginnings of fury.

  “Someone’s got to tell me what’s going on.” I pull myself to my feet and look directly at Roarke, because Killian and long explanations just aren’t a thing, and Pax might snap if I push him for details.

  “Eighteen minutes,” Killian says.

  I don’t get an answer. Instead, the suite bursts into action. Pax shoves the paper into the woman’s hands and disappears into his room. Roarke practically runs into his own room, and Killian is adjusting the position of a large bow and a crap-load of arrows on his back.

  This is the assignment that will get us out of the White Castle, but it feels a lot like a lingering trap.

  “Fifteen,” Killian says.

  It doesn’t matter what I think – we’re going, and we’re going now.

  I dash for Seth’s room, stopping sharply when fingers wrap around my good wrist. Female fingers.

  I spin around to face Jada. She’s taller than me and her nose is way too perfect.

  She holds out a rolled piece of paper. “Muinthel had a message just for you.”

  I take it, then back away, confused and conflicted. I wouldn’t exactly put her on my can’t-wait-to-get-to-know-you list, but she is the first Saber, other than the four brothers – but let’s not forget, they practically kidnapped me from Lord Martin’s in the first place – who has information and wants to share it.

  “Twelve,” Killian says.

  Jada turns, obviously not expecting me to read it now. We don’t even have time to read it now. I flatten the rolled paper, fold it in half, then in half again, and stow it securely in my pocket.

  “I’ll put the seal on in the stables. Ravaryn has your horses ready,” Jada says.

  I pull Seth’s bag out of the corner of his room. Unlike the others, his walls aren’t lined with weapons, just a sword and a dagger sitting on top of the bag. I push those off, using my teeth to hold the bag and using my good hand to pull the zipper. Then I wrestle my clothes, still strewn under his covers, together and shove them into the bag. I am not going anywhere without my clothes.

  I hoist the bag onto my shoulder and meet them all in the lounge room. The woman is already walking out the door and Pax is just pulling his last boot into place. Roarke straightens his cloak and looks me over.

  “No cloak,” he says, annoyingly stating the obvious.

  “No time,” Killian says.

  I ignore all of that and wave a hand toward Seth’s weapons. “Someone’s going to have to get his pointy things. I’m all out of arms.”

  Killian makes a half-chuckling noise, but it’s Roarke who grabs the weapons. I block him before he can pass me and escape through the door.

  “My book.”

  “I already have it,” he says, taking the bag from my shoulder.

  “Let me carry you,” Pax says, which Roarke must have anticipated.

  “I can walk.”

  “Not quickly enough,” Killian says, and he’s gone.

  Roarke, too. I practically roll my eyes as Pax wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me in tight. My back to his chest. My feet an inch off the ground.

  The halls, the stairs, the training fields between the castle and the stable are all gone in a blur. How these guys manage to fight with the fuzz and haze of moving like that is beyond me.

  When we stop, which is sharp and sudden and kicks the breath from my lungs, we’re at the far end of the stables. There’s a gentle glow of lamps around us. The double doors open wide to a narrow track and six horses ready to go.

  Pax lets go of me, and I stagger forward a few paces before I have my balance, while he turns to survey our surroundings and the notable lack of Seth.

  “I can’t put this seal on without all four of you,” the woman is saying, followed by hushed words between Pax, the woman, and Ravaryn.

  “We need Seth,” I gasp, a sense of urgency growing inside me.

  He has to get here, now, or I’m going to start freaking out.

  “Is she worried about Chaos?” Killian asks, looking over my head at Roarke.

  “One of the perks of a ChaosSeed, Kitten. His power is so hyper-tuned in to self-preservation, it’s annoying,” Roarke says softly.

  I turn to glare at him, but his eyes are gentle, calm. Like he knows something I don’t – and I try to follow his lead, to squash my fear for Seth, because the truth is Roarke knows lots of things that I don’t.

  He walks a short gray mare over to me. “Ever ridden?”

  “Not on my own.”

  His lips press into a line, which he tries to hide.

  “You hold on, I’ll lead the horse,” he says.

  There’s not really any other choice. They’re all wearing swords, and several other kinds of weapons, plus their cloaks, plus big bags strapped on top of the saddlebags on the backs of their horses. I need to ride my own damned horse.

  The short mare stands docile. Just waiting. I need to get on it, and that’s another one of those things made awfully hard by having a broken arm.

  “Crap. Okay. Help me up?” I ask, gripping the front of the small black saddle with my left hand.

  I pull my right in close, hoping not to hurt it too badly when I fall off this animal.

  Roarke keeps a hold of the horse, and suddenly Killian has his hands on my hips – then my weight in the air. Sitting me on the animal.

  “Hold on,” Roarke says, his tone serious.

  I’m holding on about as tightly as my hand can handle, and we haven’t even gone anywhere yet.

  Is it possible to be out of breath just from sitting on a horse? Because that’s exactly how I feel. Not that I’m specifically afraid of the horse, or the height, or the way its back sways slightly as Roarke moves closer to the Saber huddle and tugs us along behind him. So maybe it’s everything else that’s happening around me right now that’s starting to make breathing really difficult.

  “What’s going on?” Seth asks, running around the corner of the stables from the outside.

  His cheeks are flushed, his eyes wide, and there’s a bounce to his step that all means trouble.

  “Seal. Now,” Pax says.

  Seth throws his hand out, no questions. The other three do the same, all of them presenting their palms to the woman, one over the other, like a hand-stack, with Pax’s on top. She scrunches the paper up into a tight ball and smashes it into Pax’s palm in much the same manner as the wooden token was smacked into my head.

  There’s a pop of light, and all four of them growl in pain.

  I bristle, pulsing with the need to break this up. Dive on them, separate them from her, run my horse into them, anything.

  Which is stupid – because they can more than protect themselves, and I’m not even sure what I’d be protecting them from. The light and their pain are gone before I can blink – or act.

  They mount their horses in a flurry of cloaks and there’s the distinct echo of hooves on slate as the animals grow restless under their riders. Pax leads the way. Then Seth. Roarke and me, then Killian.

  “You know this actually works to our advantage right?” Jada says. “Master Eydis’ domain is the perfect location to send the Elites. The Elites were part of your plan, right?”

  Pax is frowning, but he nods like he actually agrees. None of this feels like we have any kind of advantage.

  “Send them to me,” Pax says, turning his horse in an impatient circle.

  “I will, but it’ll take time. I’ll ride to the north. Lithael will be travelling from the east. You need to head straight for Master Eydis,” Jada says, swinging herself onto her horse’s back.

  That’s it, she doesn’t say anything else. Just races off down the road tha
t skirts around the castle.

  I watch her for as long as I can, turning in the saddle to look up at the castle. Its solid glass layers, walls so white that they even shine at night, and way up the top, the hint of a structure in the shape of a teardrop.

  Then there’s an explosion. My already unsettled heart rate loses its shit as flashes of light shoot into the sky from the eastern side of the castle.

  “Seth,” Killian grunts.

  Roarke lets a laugh lose and Pax actually smiles in the direction of the pure destruction.

  “You’re welcome,” Seth says.

  “What did you do?” I gasp.

  “What Chaos always does,” Roarke calls.

  “I didn’t actually make anything explode. I did put three horses in the bottler’s office, and the guy does keep lanterns in the same room as his pure liquors. Something must have been knocked over to a beautiful effect. And I didn’t even know we needed a decoy.”

  The guy actually chuckles at himself. Impressed.

  “You never need to know,” Pax says, a rare moment of approval clear in his tone.

  He looks back at his brothers, checking everyone is ready, before nudging his horse into a hard gallop.

  “Hold on,” Roarke calls back – to me.

  Oh, crap.

  He lets loose an excited whoop, and without any more conversation, we’re off. Moving like our lives depend on it down a rough narrow track. The wind rushes against my face so sharply that my eyes begin to water, but with the thump-thump of the horse, and the way it’s taking everything in me to stay on, there’s no chuckin’ way I’m letting go of the saddle to wipe away the moisture.

  The pitch darkness of the forest folds around us and soon the sounds of panicked Sabers and even more panicked servants vanishes.

  Just night. Our horse’s hooves pound against the darkness, and my breath catches sharp against my throat.

  Job one – get out of the White Castle – done.

  Job two – get rid of this bubble…

  I know I have to get rid to the bubble, but do I want to?

  Pax is only just visible at the head of the line – which feels a little too far away.

  I order myself to do two things, the first is survive, and the second is to stop admiring the power around me. People are about to chase us down. Lithael is on his way here, probably to kill me, and I’m on a horse, holding the saddle for dear life – I should not be perving on these men. On their confidence, their strength, their badass silhouettes riding into the night.

  Shouldn’t, but am.

  Not sure I can stop myself now.

  The bottler’s office is in ruins, the ground covered in still warm charcoal that crunches hard beneath my boots.

  Uncle Lithael clears his throat and I clasp my hands behind my back and fall into step behind him. Just like I did when I was five and he told me I would rule the world – me, and not my useless sister.

  I will rule them all.

  Too stupid to pass the trials? Who needs trials? Who needs a triune?

  And one by one I’ll watch them struggle, shrivel, and die while I devour the mortal realms.

  With a wave of his hand and a deep, blood-curdling growl, Uncle slices through the Veil and opens a rip to the other side.

  “Go,” he growls. “They are too strong right now. I will send others to hunt the Elorsins and discover who this girl is. You find your sister.”

  The perfect plan – after the mess she’s left me to deal with. Taking down this castle should be her job, too.

  I nod in agreement, stepping through the Veil and into the screams and pain of the dead.

  It’s about time we began playing some of our cards. The willing Sabers at our disposal. The destruction along the border. The very first prophecy given to my Grandfather when he was just a boy.

  My uncle intervened with our trial, removed us from the task. But I will be stronger than them all – once I destroy my enemies.

  It’s about time the Elorsins realized who I am destined to be. My grandfather will make them kneel – then I’ll cut their heads clean from their necks and bathe in their blood.

  My uncle will approve of that.

  Grandfather Lucif, the cold bastard, was never proud of me – but the rest of the world will fear the man I can be.

  And the girl, the soot, she was fun.

  I think I’m going to keep her for myself.

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  Shadows and Shade

  Preamble

  This is a reimagined scene that slips in around

  the middle of book 1 Shadows and Shade.

  THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS ADULT CONTENT

  * * *

  A Note From The Author

  My Beta Pack somehow managed to get my drunk ass to write the very first forbidden chapter of Shadows and Shade… but truth be told I always had a thing for Jaymin Eve and Jane Washington’s Curse of the Gods, and I always wanted one of the guys to get into the shower with Willa. They were always in there, taking her into the men's showers, and damn if I couldn’t see pure hotness unfolding in my imagination. So that’s where Shadows and Shade was born from. How I ended up writing a very clean slowburn based on that kind of inspiration, I will never know.

  But to be clear, the characters in this forbidden chapter may have been inspired by Curse of the Gods, but the scene you are about to read is directly representing Shadows and Shade – the characters and all details are from Shadows and Shade, and the creation is all the work of Amanda Cashure. They do revert to some tropes (cranky guy, alpha guy, sexy guy, funny guy) but they’re the tropes a million other books.

  In this short our guys go back to being numbered because this scene didn’t really happen.

  And some of them break character and lose some of their restraint to make the scene happen.

  Suspend what you know

  because this chapter isn’t real.

  But what if the main character wasn’t a virgin?

  What if she was an adult with full sexual confidence?

  What if Three had no ability to rein himself in – his seductive Allure driving all of their need to have her?

  What if they’d already become comfortable in each other’s spaces, and she’d already kissed them all… and then this chapter happened?

  In the original chapters it’s One who takes our girl to the showers. In this reimagined scene, Four is the one who volunteers, being that Four considers himself much stronger in the resisting his woman department.

  Also, as this scene comes into play during book 1, it only utilizes the information that the reader has at this point. If you’ve read book 2, you will know that some things some of the guys would definitely do don’t occur in this scene because no spoilers allowed.

  Of course, none of the guys would actually hurt our girl, even for lust, but they do come close quite a few times.

  They all want her.

  So, what if…?

  Remember this doesn’t really happen.

  Never did. Never will.

  Forbidden Shower Scene

  “Out,” Four repeats.

  The servant drops the towels he was ready to hand over and vanishes out the door.

  Leaving the bathroom empty – just me and Four.

  “You know you can use full sentences, right?” I say.

  “Shower,” he grumbles, but he’s got his little half-smile on.

  Does the guy enjoy the effect he has?

  He flicks the lock on the main door and claims the first shower in the row. I head to the last one, hesitating until it’s clear he’s comfortable where he is.

  Nope – not entirely true. I’m hesitating, trying to convince myself that I’m comfortable where I am. An uncomfortable twist in my stomach suggests that my cubicle is far too far away, and that the cubicle right next to his would be th
e better option.

  Or his actual cubicle. If there was any room left in there for me. Four is tall, toned, built from stone and able to break mountains.

  Not going into his shower with him. I shake my head to try to clear the idea.

  Bad idea. Pretty sure he’d push me right back out, and he wouldn’t be gentle about it either.

  I step inside my own cubicle and strip down, everything except the strip of a polishing rag that I’ve tied around my wrist. It’s a clean polishing rag, just a piece of thin blue cotton that I ripped into a shred wide enough to cover the scar on my wrist. A scar which my Commander would have a bad reaction to.

  So I leave that on as I explore my shower cubicle and order myself not to describe the space as lonely. A shelf has been built into the smooth stonework at the back and is lined with stuff. There’s no other way to describe it – just stuff. Round stuff, little square stuff, a bowl with liquid stuff in it. It all smells great – so not bad stuff.

  There’s no tap, but I can hear Four’s water running way down the other end of the row, and these are showers. So there should be a tap.

  I step further into the cubicle, looking for the damn tap. Instantly, cold water floods down on me, and I chuckin’ scream. Cold.

  Like ice type of cold.

  Makes my nipples instantly hard type of cold.

  I turn to escape and smack into Four’s chest. He fills the exit, and as ice cold water drenches my hair, running over my shoulders and covering the rest of me, he shows no sign of moving. I get about half a second to register that he’s completely naked. His sculpted chest has curves over every possible muscle a guy could own. Abs. Adonis belt. And the rumors that guys shrink in the cold are all lies. Lies. All of them. Not shrinking, pretty damn obviously growing.