Remnants: A dark urban fantasy (Shifter Chronicles Book 2)

by Melle Amade

  Our laughter blends as it lifts to the vaulted ceilings of the room.

  “Nice speech.” Callum’s voice is low and warm. It vibrates just beneath my stomach.

  “I’m just trying to tell you I believe in you.” My voice is clear and strong. I want him to hear me. “I know you don’t see it, but all those people, all those Ravensgaard… They didn’t swear fealty to you because the Van Arends told them to. They saw you. They saw a strong young man who has sworn to be of service to an honorable lord. You might be young and untried and untrained, but younger men than you have led armies.”

  “And probably gotten ambushed and had their heads cut off.” Callum throws me a crooked smile.

  I press my hand against his chest. I want to make sure he sees himself the way I see him. His torso rises and falls with his chest and his smile fades. I can feel his heat pouring out, into my hand, and straight into my heart. His presence and power is in me.

  And I want more.

  I dig my fingers into his shirt and pull him down to me until his mouth is crushed against my lips. I want him to be uplifted, to feel all the respect and trust and faith I have in him. I want him to feel it come from me.

  His hands reach forward and cup my face, he lifts my chin and I’m on my tiptoes, off balance. I fall towards him as he stumbles backwards, gripping my waist and pulling me with him as we tumble to the floor.

  Our lips separate, laughing, but his arms hold me tightly, and I press my face against his. I brush my tongue to his lips. He sighs and our worlds spiral together.

  With a gentle move of his hand, he pushes me back so we’re lying side by side. I twist my head to look at him, but his hand is on my abdomen. He’s holding me not quite at arm’s length, but just far enough away so I can’t touch him.

  My breath comes heavy, matching his. We stare at each other, but I can’t fathom the confused look in his eyes.

  “I can’t think straight.” He exhales the words. “When I’m so close to you.”

  “I need you.” I don’t know what I mean, but I just know it’s true. That of all my friends—Zan, Aiden, and Roman—Callum is the one I need the most. He’s the one I lean on the most. The one I expect to be there.

  “We can’t,” he says. “We can’t be together.”

  My face heats up like I’ve fallen asleep in the sun and gotten burnt. I sit up, the wooden floor scraping against my butt. “I didn’t mean I wanted to be with you,” I lie, trying to save face. “I just meant like, you know… Things are scary right now, and your strength is really helpful.”

  He closes his eyes briefly, and when he opens them, the fire is gone, the wall between us is back in place, and in one swift movement, he stands up. His hand reaches down, grabs my wrist, and pulls me to my feet. Quickly he takes a step back.

  “I get it,” he says. “It’s the blood talking. The raven’s blood. It just gets loud sometimes and makes ravens do crazy things.”

  “What?” I ask. “It’s like this with you and every raven?” The thought of Iona flashes before me. I bite down hard on my lips. I want to draw blood. To not feel this kind of pain.

  Callum takes another step back. “Shae, it’s not that. It’s not– No, it’s not like this with every raven, obviously. Don’t be an idiot.”

  My skin runs cold. “I’m not an idiot.” I stab the words out.

  “I didn’t say you were an idiot,” he frowns. “I said don’t act like one. Crap. Look, Shae. It’s just… I’m the Ridder now.”

  “You think I’m kissing you because you’re the Ridder?” A frost is flying down over me from the top of my head.

  “Calm down, Shae. I wasn’t saying that. It’s just not a good time for me to have a girlfriend.”

  “I wasn’t asking you to be my boyfriend!” The ice clamps down on my neck, searing down my arms. I give in to it.

  “Shae, stop it,” Callum says. “Go dig up Aiden from the library, see if they found anything and then have Roman escort you home.

  “Is that an order, Mr. Ridder?” Sarcasm laces my voice.

  “Sure.” He throws the words over his shoulder as he stomps out of the room.

  I stand in shocked silence, staring at the door as it swings shut. I push it open and race down the hall. Callum is nowhere to be seen. Icicles crack around my shoulders and down my arms as I head for the library.

  “Aiden?” I call at the library doors.

  “Are you okay?” He’s looking over my shoulder as he steps into the hallway.

  “No.”

  “Your Ridder is a jerk.” I mean every single word of it.

  “You’re only just figuring that out?” He chuckles. “That’s what makes him so good at his job.”

  I don’t appreciate his laughter. “Shut up.” I can’t stop the words that race through me. My blood is freezing and sparkling around every corner of my system. I race down the hallway. Not away from him, but to my raven self. I want to be in it so bad that I can feel the skin falling off me and the feathers coming out, even as I push open the doors to the ballroom and leap into the air.

  I let out a glorious caw as I fly up towards the gilded ceilings and circle the chandelier.

  My wingtips are black.

  My heart moves in time with my body. I did it! I feel light and in my skin, ready to soar into the heavens.

  I circle the ballroom, glancing down at Roman and Aiden below. Roman was so right. Anger is the path to my raven self. They are both looking at something on the floor…blood…I’m bleeding. But it barely hurt.

  Let them ask questions later.

  The glass door leading to the terrace is open. I aim for it…and I am free!

  I’m flying into the blue wilderness of the sky above Topanga. I flap my wings and burn the ice out of my skin, letting it go. My feathers vibrate as I circle higher and higher and higher. After taking big gulps of air, I caw as loudly as my lungs will let me. I don’t care who hears. I don’t care what they think. I don’t care what they see. I am a raven. I am free to enter the shifter world without being ostracized. Roman asked me what the difference was between being a dove and a raven was. I’ve never been either one long enough to know exactly what the differences are, or what exactly they mean to me. But right now, I’m free of the rage I had at Callum. The sky is the limit, and I can just keep going.

  Across the horizon, other ravens are training, low in the canyon. They fly in groups, moving in and out of each flock.

  I circle at a distance, watching. They’re not flying high enough for people on the ground to see them. The canyons are well protected. But from up here, I can see them, dark shadows racing across the blue sky. Diving at each other and dodging at the last possible minute. Grabbing onto each other. Pulling each other up and pinning each other down. Diving with each other clutched in their claws.

  I want that, to be with them. I fly forward, even though I don’t know exactly what to do. Every feather on my skin wants to enter the fray. As I approach the training ground, the ravens fly towards me, cawing.

  They will test me.

  It’s a large raven who gets to me first. By the bend of its wing, I think it’s Callum, but as it bears down on me, I realize it’s not. Its wing span is not as large.

  I’ve had a few midair battles, mostly failed, but even though I’m not trained, I’m going to give it my best shot.

  I fly up to grab the high ground and enter the battle from above. Folding my wings, I dive towards the raven. My body is streamlined and my beak open as I scream the loudest battle call I can manage.

  What’s the worst that can happen?

  These are just training exercises.

  The raven hovers in the air like a still target. As if trying to make it easy for me to practice midair capture. I’m all in. I approach at blinding speed, the wind whipping so fast past my face that I can barely keep my eyes open. But suddenly I realize I’m going to need more than my beak. I’m going to need my talons. I bring them up and open them, so I can grab the raven. And I slam them
shut! But I catch nothing. I snap my head around, but the raven is gone. Too late, its talons stab into my back.

  How did it get there?!

  Pain shoots through my spine. My body screams to shift, but to shift at this height… It could mean death. I have no idea what level of freefall I can handle.

  The raven hasn’t captured my wings, just the lower part of my spine. I arch my neck towards it, and my caw is a scream. I flap my wings, throwing myself into a backwards flip, trying to get the raven off. We tumble head over heels through the air until finally it lets me go.

  But I can’t tell which way is up and which way is down. The ground races towards me. I twist to look for the blue sky. The next time I see it, I snap my head up and point my beak and eyes towards it. I beat my wing with all my might, driving against gravity, driving to pull myself up from the clutches of the earth, driving to get back into the sky. My back arches in pain. My wings sting. I’m right above the training ground, and my wings can’t get me higher. My left wing is injured. I can’t stop my dissent. I’m heading to the ground.

  My landing is just as graceful as every other landing I’ve ever done. It totally sucks. I tumble into it, shifting as I go. I finally stop, arms and legs outstretched, my face in the dirt with the whole flock of cawing ravens heckling me from the sides.

  “Not bad.” A soft lilt comes across the field as Iona walks towards me. “Not bad for a fledgling.” She smiles. “Is your back all right? I didn’t mean to hit you quite that hard.”

  She was the raven I was battling in the sky! I hold my face still to not give away the searing pain that moves through my left arm.

  “I’m fine,” I say.

  “Great,” she says. “Let’s have another go at it. Are you game?”

  Oh, I’m game. “Yep.” I stand, wiping at the blood on my neck. My would from shifting hasn’t healed.

  But an eagle flies between us, shifting as it lands. Aiden walks towards me.

  “You look a little pale, Shae,” he says.

  “I’m fine.”

  Callum’s in human form, calling orders to different ravens as they fly up. Next to him is Shanahan, but Callum’s eyes are on me.

  “I think maybe we should let you rest a little more.” Aiden pierces me with his golden gaze. He’s telling me I can’t battle Iona again. But I’m so angry. I know I’ll shift into a raven.

  “I don’t want to rest.” The words come out icy cold and low. Whatever freedom from anger that happened when I shifted into the raven… Well, it’s back. I just want to attack Iona, scare her off, be done with her. “I want another go,” I say.

  She stands there smiling, the lines of her face frigid. I can tell by the glint in her eye that she wants it, too. This time I won’t be so slow. I will grapple her to the ground. Capture her. She won’t make a fool of me again.

  “Come with me, Shae,” says Aiden. His tone grates on me and reaches into my core. I look at Iona whose eyes are now on Aiden.

  “Why can’t she battle?” she asks.

  “She’s very new,” says Aiden. “I want to make sure she heals properly. It’s no good having semi-injured Ravensgaard.”

  “She doesn’t look hit hard to me,” says Iona.

  But Aiden isn’t about to lose the situation to me or Iona. His gaze simply goes from Iona to me, then he takes my elbow and leads me away. No one is going to argue with him. He’s the Heir and knows it.

  “I will have you mended,” he says loud enough for anyone who cares to hear.

  I glance back at Callum who’s staring after us. His mouth has a slight upward curve, as if he thinks I wasn’t that bad. I start to smile, but he turns back to Shanahan and they’re back to drilling the Ravensgaard.

  Aiden grabs the keys off the seat of Callum’s SUV that sits by the zoo gates. I jerk my arm away and duck into the vehicle.

  “I can’t let you try to shift there in front of everybody,” Aiden says as he gets into the car next to me. “You know that.”

  “I didn’t mean to shift back into a human,” I say. “I wasn’t done, but I was falling and in pain.”

  “I don’t think you’re ready for training,” he says. “Roman explained it to me and we get your trigger is anger, but we’ve got to figure it out better. We have to make sure it’s consistent.”

  I throw myself back against the seat and rub my hand against my forehead. “How can I be a Ravensgaard if I’m not allowed to take part in the training?”

  “There’ll be time for that,” Aiden says. “Right now, I need to get you home. El Oso is done at Dad’s offices and on his way back here, I don’t want you around.”

  “Well that’s nice,” I mutter.

  “You know what I mean, Shae.” He says. “Go home, get some rest. We have the debut tomorrow. Stay focused on getting through that, not on battling Iona.”

  My head swivels at him. Is it that obvious that she irritates me every time I see her?

  11

  “That’s it,” Zan says as she places the last pin in my hair.

  I stare into the mirror, barely recognizing myself. Zan has piled my hair on top of my head and soft tendrils curl by my ears. She’s given me pearl drop earrings, held gently in filigree gold swirls, which mirror the thin gold swirls embroidered all over my absolutely stupendous black corset and massive skirt. The gold stitching is so fine you can only see them when the light strikes the dress in a certain way. The corset sewn into the bodice hugs my waist tightly, pressing just the right amount of cleavage without being anywhere near obscene. The sleeves end in long gold lace cuffs that delicately drape my fingers. Zan pulls a thick, intricately woven gold necklace from an antique wooden jewelry box. It’s stunning, but I put my hand up to stop her.

  “No,” I say. “I want to wear this.” From my purse, I retrieve the thin gold necklace Aiden left me for my birthday when I turned fifteen, the one he gave me before all this happened.

  Zan frowns, but takes the necklace and clips it on.

  I stare in the mirror and take a deep breath. Raven. Be a raven. Yesterday Roman and I spent the whole day in the Sanctuary working on this, on being a raven. Being just angry enough to pull it off. I was covered in blood and cuts by the end of it, but we both ignored it. Roman’s probably the only one of my friends who would. He jokes about being the most badass, but he just might be.

  I may not have the black hair or all the sharp features. And anything else I am, is nobody’s business, nor can it be proven. It’s mine on the inside. I just must make sure I can keep it that way.

  Zan doesn’t wear her signature black. Her dress is deep russet, darker than her hair, but the perfect complement. It has fur lined cuffs, and a fur collar reaching around her back from one shoulder to the other. Her bodice laces down the front with a crisp gold ribbon tied in a beautiful bow at her narrow waistline. Her wild curls are braided to a single side and then clipped up on the other side.

  I trace the perfect braid with my fingers. “It’s amazing how much its grown.”

  “Hair and nails grow faster, but we age slower. It’s the best of all worlds.” Zan smiles and paints on deep red lipstick that perfectly matches her nails.

  A grin erupts on my face. “You look stunning,” I murmur. There’s been so much nervousness for me around the debut, I’ve forgotten it’s her debut too. Something she’s probably been looking forward to since she found out she was a shifter.

  Roman, Callum, and Aiden will be presented, too. The newest batch of shifters from Muiderkring West.

  Balthazar raps on the door lightly before opening it. “Your escorts await.” He smiles with a bow.

  “Where’s Zaragoza?” I clutch her hand. “We can’t go without him.”

  “You can,” Zan squeezes my fingers. “We can do the binding later, but we can’t keep El Oso waiting.”

  “But what if I bleed?” I say, gazing furtively around trying to figure out a way to stall. “What if the shift doesn’t quite work right? What if-”

  “We must go,”
Balthazar insists, motioning us to the door.

  I grip the swatches of fabric in my skirt and lift it to keep from tripping. Despite the fear that stomps at my guts, it’s still the most fabulous dress I could ever imagine wearing.

  We walk along the upper corridor until we’re just outside two grand double doors that lead to the balcony of the ballroom. Callum, Roman, and Aiden stand there waiting like groomsmen for their brides.

  Aiden wears his family colors. a deep gold coat that draws out the color of his eyes and hair. Underneath he wears a russet red shirt. It’s clear he’s Zan’s date.

  I grin stupidly at Callum, striking in a black velvet jacket, wide open over a black vest and a black shirt. His hair is pulled back in a single knot. I walk up to him, smiling. I’m about to put my arm through his when Iona steps in, draping her hand on his shoulder possessively. My gaze flits from her to him and back again.

  Her dress is midnight black and simpler than mine. The skirt is narrow, hugging her hips as it flares out from her knees. With her pale skin and black hair, she is striking. No jewelry. Her hair is pulled back in a confined bun at the nape of her head and tied with a simple black ribbon. If ever there was a Ravensgaard, it’s Iona. I’m a fraud in Ravensgaard black.

  “What’s she doing here?” I ask, even as it dawns on me.

  “It’s my Debut, too.” She smirks.

  And now I see Callum isn’t wearing any Van Arend gold. He’s wearing stark black, like Iona. He’s her date.

  “Iona should’ve debuted when she turned sixteen back in Ireland,” Callum explains. “But it wasn’t a good time for her that year. Last year, her father determined not to have a debut.”

  There’s nothing I can say that is going to make this moment right for me. Iona is debuting with Callum and–

  Roman grabs my hand, and I turn to him. It’s obvious he’s my date. He’s resplendent in a black jacket with tiny gold embroidery over one shoulder and down one arm. It looks like a gilded sleeve tattoo.

  “It’s stunning.” I run my fingers along the delicate design.