Shadows and Shade Box Set

by Amanda Cashure

  “Because I stole my brothers’ clothes from the arena changing rooms and made them walk back to the suite naked.”

  “So you earned it?”

  He leans down and presses a kiss to my temple, whispering, “Maybe.”

  Killian stops a few feet away, outside my bubble even if I could feel anything.

  I wobble a little, feeling weak but alive.

  Key word, alive.

  So I suck in a sharp breath and force myself to concentrate on the man and the things I have to say. “I’m sorry.”

  Killian growls, stepping back and turning away and looking like he might be about to leave.

  “Sorry for what? What happened?” Roarke demands.

  “I happened. You don’t understand, I feel hollow – like everything has gone wrong or changed or maybe vanished. But training was still the same. Hurting was still the same. And it made me forget all the other stuff. I …” I want you, Killian, and I don’t care how, but the rest of my sentence fades away.

  He starts walking – which is not okay.

  “And I’m pretty sure I was kicking your ass,” I shout, making him pause and turn.

  Roarke looks at me with surprise, some of the stress fading from his eyes.

  “I need details, Vexy,” Seth chuckles.

  I smirk and point at Killian. “He’s become a slow old man, and I ducked and dodged and danced around him with ease.”

  The with ease part is definitely a lie, but it makes him smirk back at me.

  He tugs up the sleeve of his shirt to share the pink line of an almost healed wound. I’m envious, but that’s an old argument.

  Seth lowers his lips closer to my ear and whispers, “I’m impressed.”

  Which makes me smile bigger.

  I’m amused, Seth’s very amused, and Killian at least doesn’t look pissed, but the frown on Roarke’s face says he’s already moved on to the next problem.

  He sighs and bows his head, his long hair falling forward in a mess – when’s the last time he brushed it? Defeat is written all over his posture.

  “Doesn’t really matter what happened – the potion failed,” he says. “There’s nothing stronger.”

  I practically sing and dance. “How long have I got until it wears off?”

  “Maybe an hour, Kitten.”

  “Well, I’m not sitting around and waiting for it to happen.” Seth looks thoughtful as he talks, part squinting up at the sky and part tapping his boot impatiently. “The tree is immune. It’s just absorbing my power. But what if we all concentrate Chaos at it?”

  “We run the risk of using too much, and we could destroy the Spring at the same time,” Roarke says.

  “My power works to our advantage.”

  “No,” Killian snaps. “Your advantage.”

  Silence.

  If I am putting him in danger, his power might decide my death is a good idea – I get it. I also understand that Seth can’t control that, not even a tiny bit.

  “I want to see the tree,” I decide.

  “Pax’s orders,” Killian says, taking a few steps back and sitting down on the log.

  His way of saying no – or enforcing it. Or both.

  We all turn to face him, and the direction people enter the domain from, with the boulders on my right. He looks defeated – they all look defeated. End of our rope, and one of us is going to fall, but none of them are about to save themselves. No one can save me.

  So they’re going to wait and watch until it’s over. I won’t let them.

  And I won’t let them sit in their misery.

  Determination floods through me. My body may be weak, but this emotion is chuckin’ strong.

  “Nope, not happening. I’m the one in this damn bubble, so that makes it mine, and pity wasn’t invited to this party,” I snap, hard.

  There’s a half breath where they all look at me in disbelief. I straighten from Seth and plant my hands on my hips, mustering every bit of energy I have to project just how serious I am at them.

  Which makes Killian smile. Not a full smile. Not an eyes-emerald and teeth-showing smile. But still a smile.

  More words are ready to topple off my tongue when movement in the trees catches my attention.

  A wolf – Thane – and he’s covered in lots of blood.

  A tingle runs down my spine. A very, very faint hint that I can feel them there. It sparks a more powerful sensation in my chest. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, looking for that connection. The one between them and me – and fail.

  Not yet. The potion’s not done yet.

  Thane ambles into the domain, trots straight across to the stream, and plunges in. The blood washes from him, leaving a red stain rippling through the water.

  A flash of light explodes under the surface, and Pax emerges. His hair is wet, his muscles glistening, and there’s a slight glow still in his eyes. A rush of water falls away from his naked body as he climbs out, almost making me want to tackle the man back in.

  The blood’s gone, and there’s no sign of any of it being his. That taken care of, I just stare. He acts like he hasn’t noticed me as he moves towards us. Every bit of him is a predator. Muscles coiled, ready to attack. The carved angles of his chest glint with water, and his fierce gaze demands that even the powerful bow to him. The sigil on his chest is nothing but a few rough lines. I can’t even see where the original picture was, like someone has wiped their hand over a design drawn in the dirt, erasing parts down the middle and sides. I can’t remember how long it was supposed to last, but clearly Pax is stronger than the people that thing was designed for.

  Strength and energy seep from the man, and every bit of me is pulled toward his power with the promise of connection – of feeling.

  “Easy, girl,” Seth says, resting a hand on my shoulder. “You look ready to jump on him.”

  “I might be,” I manage.

  He chuckles. “No, you’re not. I’m not getting that close to Pax’s naked ass, and you’re on a tight leash.”

  Pax walks straight past us, saying, “I’m getting some clothes.” Like I’m not even here.

  Which is not okay. I called an end to this shit. Self-loathing and losing-your-shit wasn’t invited to this party either.

  I lunge at him, hoping my bubble has brushed against his – but I’m not surprised when I bounce off a wall and land flat on my ass.

  Hurting and groaning.

  He waves a hand down at me, and without looking down or stopping, he orders, “Shade, stay. I’m in the mood for biting things.”

  “I’m not your dog,” I snap, surging to my feet.

  He tilts his head to the side, pausing long enough to give me a quizzical look. Like my words are absurd.

  “But I do own you, and you will stay.”

  Seth bounces on the balls of his feet. I feel sorry for him – if he tries to escape, he’s taking me with him, and I’m going to keep antagonizing Pax until he steps into my range – so I can slap the guy. He can’t pretend I’m not here. He can’t order me around. And he sure can’t tell me to stay.

  “No, you don’t,” I shout. “You don’t own any part of me, not a single hair, and if you want to argue about this, I will win!”

  His fangs drop. I would suppress my grin, except the heat rushing from my chest to my toes does it for me.

  Doesn’t slow me down though.

  I point at my chest. “Mine.”

  Pax stalks forward.

  “Vexy, you’re playing a dangerous game,” Seth whispers.

  I feel Pax step into the bubble, certain of it this time, and rush at him. Hand ready to slap. Seth tries to grab my waist, but Pax grabs me by the biceps and yanks me free. Claws protrude from his fingers and slice right into the backs of my arms. Through the shirt, through my skin, deep into my flesh without warning.

  Not what I was expecting.

  Pax equals dominance equals home. Being his feels like home.

  I cry out in pain, my knees buckling, but I don’t fight hi
m.

  In a flash, Seth has a hold of Pax’s right shoulder, a blade raised in a clear threat. Roarke grabs onto Pax’s other arm, not trying to pull him away because that would rip my arms off. But maybe trying to hold him still, stop him from doing more damage. Killian’s roar fills the domain, the man rushing towards us.

  “You are going to die, but until you do, you are mine,” Pax growls.

  I swallow back the tears and the need to whimper.

  So he knows Killian’s part of the prophecy. I have no idea when he found out, but that changes nothing.

  “Not your slave,” I manage. “I know I’m going to die. Please let me die free.”

  Damn, those words hurt. Each one scratching, choking, almost failing to find life.

  His hands instantly relax, but his claws retreating from my skin is as painful as when they went in. My whimper is hoarse and rough, but there’s an edge of regret to the pain. Like I was enjoying it. Enjoying Pax trying to crush me with his power. Pax equals dominance. His actions are my link to his power. I need that link.

  Because I’m broken.

  “You knew?” he asks, his tone low.

  I nod slowly.

  Very slowly, watching his fist clench and the last of the Sigil on his chest dissolve. We are on our own – good. I’ve developed a serious distaste for sigils, seals, and potions.

  “Pax?” Seth asks, also very slowly. His weapon is still raised.

  Seth’s a big guy, not quite as broad as Killian. He’s close and beats Killian on height by a few hairs. Chaos has muscles made to climb and flip, so he never feels that big. He also never draws his weapon for fun or in threat. My heart aches that he has it in his grip now.

  “I swore her to secrecy,” Killian grunts. “And she kept her promise.”

  “I don’t care,” Pax says through clenched teeth. “I said no more secrets.”

  “It wasn’t my secret to tell, and he’s chuckin’ scary. He did that whole Shadows thing and made the piece of paper vanish,” I blurt, pointing my thumb up at Killian.

  It sounds stupid to think that I would risk death to stay near these guys, especially considering my complete lack of everything needed to survive in this place. But their mother’s words, the threat from Leon, and a whole realm that is about to burn or become Lithael’s dinner – those things are forcing all of our hands. Bubble or no bubble – I was always going to die.

  “It’s me or everyone else,” I say, which is a bit out of context to our current topic, so I add, “What’s going on in your world isn’t just in your world anymore, Pax. Everyone is on Lithael’s menu. Sabers, Silvari, mortals. Everyone. I die, or everyone does. If that’s the truth, I want to work with it. I can’t live in fear of it.”

  For a long moment, Pax just stands frozen.

  Seth takes a few steps back, sheaths his blade, and begins to rock from his toes to his heels. His face is smothered in fear and frustration.

  Pax looks at his hands, at my blood smeared on his fingers, his eyes widening in horror.

  “I’ve hurt you,” he says, then grips my shirt sleeve and tears it off at the shoulder seam.

  “Pax,” I squeal.

  Not again. How many shirts do these guys want to tear into pieces? Sleeveless is not a fashion statement.

  The damage isn't limited to my arms, which he seems to realize because he grips my collar and prepares to tear the whole chuckin’ shirt in half.

  Now is not the time for Pax to see me naked. There’s still that chance that my scars will trigger him into a rage – he’s already too close. Me just saying the word ‘slave’ ended in him putting his claws through my arms. It’s not worth the risk, and there are more important things going on.

  I pull away from him and practically throw myself at Killian – grateful that the big guy is less than a step away. Turning, I press my back into Killian’s chest.

  Killian grumbles, but he wraps a knowing arm around me, ignoring the blood running in long dribbles down my arms he holds me tight.

  “You probably should get some clothes on, brother,” Seth points out, his tone laced with a nervousness he rarely shows.

  Thane rushes to the surface, and the wolf is staring at Killian, teeth bared as molten cracks form over Pax’s naked body.

  He’s going to fight his brother.

  First, Seth had his weapon out, now Thane wants to draw blood.

  All I want to do is fix things, make things right with my guys – before it’s too late.

  Thane and Pax, or Pax and Thane, step in close, and I press my hands to their chest trying to still their racing hearts. “Pax, Thane, I’m yours too. I’m mine – but I’m yours too.”

  Thane meets my gaze – definitely Thane because his eyes are glowing gold, and his teeth are sharp and deadly.

  “Put that wolf to bed,” Killian orders.

  My mate looks down at the blood on his fingers, drawing in deep breaths.

  “I need to see she’s okay,” he says, more man than wolf.

  Killian stands firm. “She’s fine. I'll fix it.”

  Pax brushes his fingers along my jaw, unable to hide the tremor in his touch.

  “You don’t deserve this,” he says softly.

  “Damn right, I don’t,” I blurt. “You guys are too good for me.”

  His brow creases, and a huff-almost-laugh escapes.

  Then he turns and walks off into the house.

  Killian steps back, his hands running down the backs of my arms. I let out a little hiss and try not to squirm.

  “Salt,” Killian mutters.

  “Why salt?” I ask, but before anyone bothers answering, Roarke’s grabbed a jar from beside the fire and is handing it to him.

  There’s an arrangement of discarded stuff beside the fire, plates, serving and carving tools, empty wine bottles, salt and seasonings. Well, not the salt, because the salt’s now in Killian’s hands.

  “Damned wolf,” Killian grunts. “You never know where his claws have been.”

  “What’s the salt for?” I press, then scream – because the salt is for me.

  Specifically my arms and the pattern of punctures.

  When I draw in a breath, it’s heavy with a kind of satisfaction. The salt feels good, fizzling and stinging and reminding me I’m alive. It doesn’t surprise me this time, but I’m not sure getting used to this kind of thing is a good idea. Or maybe it’s the best idea.

  “Why is she enjoying this?” Roarke asks, passing Killian a wine bottle filled with water.

  Killian dumps it down my arms.

  “That’s cold,” I whisper, not really an important observation but it’s out there now.

  “Mortals feel the cold more, don’t they?” Seth asks.

  He grips the hem of his shirt and tears two long strips from it, passing them to Killian one at a time.

  “It’s so nice,” I say, drawing out the ‘o’ in ‘so’ to a ridiculous length.

  “The water temperature shouldn’t be colder unless she was using some of our immunity to temperature variations this whole time,” Roarke muses, giving Killian another bottle. “But I don’t understand why she’s enjoying these things.”

  “Remember how I base jumped from the southern tower?” Seth says.

  Roarke groans. “I should have made the connection earlier. Your actions were new, but your level of crazy didn’t go up.”

  “Thank you,” Seth says, accepting the compliment.

  Killian ties a sharp knot in the bandage, job done.

  “I broke eight bones and found it funny,” Seth says.

  “Same level of crazy,” Roarke mutters.

  I’ve given up on the argument, and instead notice the giant pine beyond the cottage.

  “Is the tree really the solution?” I ask, nodding to the parts of the thing sticking up over the cottage. But I don’t give any of them time to answer before adding, “What else is down the path?”

  “Nothing,” Seth shrugs. “Just a wall of stone with the tree on top of it.”


  “Eydis was running that way when they killed her, so maybe there’s a trap door or secret tunnel.”

  Seth’s shaking his head. “Between all of the Sabers we’ve had here – the StrengthSeed has tried to smash through it. The ShimmerSeed has tried to appear inside it. The StoneSeed has tried to work it. It’s just granite – very old, very stubborn granite.”

  “When was there a StrengthSeed, ShimmerSeed, and StoneSeed here?”

  “Eliijah’s team,” Seth says, but Pax has wandered out of the house, fully dressed in his usual linen and cotton, and I lose focus on the conversation.

  Instinctively moving towards him.

  One step.

  Then wall.

  “Well, my last wish is to walk down that damn path,” I say.

  Pax looks at me, his golden eyes gentle and no sign of Thane, then he nods.

  “Okay?” I ask, the word full of uncertainty because this feels way too easy.

  “Okay. If we can’t use magic, we have to use the saws and axes. We can work faster in teams. Alternate between sawing and resting. The source of the Spring has to be in the center of that trunk.”

  “How does that even work?”

  “The path leads to the cliff and the tree. I think a tap, or small bowl, may exist hidden at the end of the path. Something Eydis used a ward to keep secret with a key or potion to get access to. I haven’t found a key, and I have looked everywhere. Even if the tap is there, we can’t get through the stone, but we can get through the tree.”

  “I still don’t understand how a Power Spring can be inside a tree?”

  “It’s a Power Spring for a reason, Kitten,” Roarke says. He leads the way, and we all follow.

  “Because magic does whatever the chuck it wants to?” I mutter.

  Killian moves in close behind me, very close, so his grunt is easily decipherable. ‘Hope.’

  These giant trees don’t exist anywhere else in the world – only at Power Springs. I hear more chatter than these guys admit. The path. The tree. The unusual stone. They’re all logic – the rest is just hope.

  Because we need it to be there.

  Stones crunch under my bare feet, and within a few steps, I’m unable to see anything because four guys all taller than me have blocked me in. One on each side. All within arms’ reach.