Shadows of the Night | BOOK 2 DRAFT

41

41. 

The sun lingers on the horizon, chasing away the shadows of the night. Thin, dark shapes glide through the tips of the trees, singing songs to one another as they join in the sky. I lean against the windowsill, my chin in my hands, as I inhale the crisp morning air. Winter has well and truly left, and the sun warms my skin as it peeks over the trees.

Down below, the village is awakening along with the sun. People slowly drift into the streets from their homes, and many spill from the castle where they temporarily reside, resuming their tasks. So much blood spilled, so much distraction, and the evidence lies in the village below—well, what's left of it.

I drag myself from the window and quickly dress for the day before braiding my hair back. The gold-rimmed edges of the vanity glisten in the sun as it pierces through the window. After Elias left and life slowed down, I looked at myself, really looked at myself—and the past few months were evident in my face—the dark circles, the tired eyes. But now, my reflection stares back—dark hair and eyes, my skin plump, a shade darker from spending time under the sun. I feel more alive than ever.

Elias had been right when he said he'd be back sooner than I thought; the past month of his absence has flown by faster than I can fathom. It simultaneously feels like forever and no time at all. But today, he returns. The knowledge of that thrums through my veins to the beat of my heart.

It's strange moving throughout the castle and coming across the villagers in the halls. I'm used to it being so empty, but so much of the village was destroyed, not only by Cynthia but by the fires Elias' started. I smile as I pass, relieved when they reciprocate. I don't know what changed their minds, but I've been accepted by those who survived. Something I never thought possible.

I thought I'd risen early, but as usual, Eric puts me to shame. By the time I reach outside he's already covered in soot and dirt as he surveys one of the fallen cabins. He eyes me when I appear at his side.

"Morning," he comments. "I thought I'd get a started a little earlier this morning." He eyes the area around us wearily. I know he'd wanted to have the village clear by the time Elias and Cassia got back, and we've made a lot of progress. The debris around the front of the castle has been cleared for the most part, and some of the villagers have already started to rebuild new structures.

But where we are, behind the castle, it still looks disastrous. This is the area that was damaged the most—not one of the cabins survived the fire, all nothing but piles of burnt wood and broken structures.

"We've done so much already," I say.

Eric grunts in a way that I know means he doesn't agree. I don't blame him. I understand what he's feeling, somewhat. Aside from a few handwritten letters from Cassia, we have no idea what mental state Elias is in.

The elders declared his gifts well and truly gone. The last time I'd spoken with him he'd seemed conflicted by the possibility that they would be gone. But it doesn't matter what damage they may have caused to his life, they were apart of him just as much as his wolf side is—losing that can't be without consequences to the mind. And to see the evidence of what he once could do is the last thing he needs.

I step over a pile of wood, standing amongst the charcoal and remains of people's belongings. Amongst the rubble, something gold glints beneath the sun. I pick it up, rubbing the black tainting it. It's a locket of some kind, damaged in a way that it won't open. Tucking it in my pocket, I make a mental note to add it to the rising pile of findings in the infirmary for people to sift through.

"Any word?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "They should be here this afternoon."

"But how do you know if you haven't gotten word?"