Like fire we burn

chapter twelve

"I can't feel you," Tyrin mused one morning as Shadow picked herself off the ground, smarting. She was improving, but he still delighted in knocking her to the floor when she wasnt paying close enough attention.

"So?" She grumbled, not caring as she shook her legs and hands out. Even though he knew she didnt have their hashti, he didnt pull his punches – or his kicks. Would you like to hold my hand, prove Im not a ghost? She had finally gotten the ring Adela had given to her to work last night, and he was bound to be suspicious of the barrier it created from his magic.

"Don't fuck around," He growled. Neither of them were in a stellar mood after the camp had welcomed visitors bearing news of decimated villages in Ilystari and mobilisation of Angora, so his language had been just as bad as hers in the last few hours. Tyrin was privy to the Royals intel, and Shadow had her own means of getting information. None of it made her happy.

"Why can't I sense you?" If he had looked, he would have noticed the beads in her hair and the ring shone a little brighter today, as if glowing from within.

"Maybe your magic's malfunctioning – I've heard of people losing control in their old age."

She forced lightness to her tone to draw attention away from the darkness brewing beneath her skin. She'd have to go hunting tonight to work off some of the rising anger. It had been a while since she'd felt the thrill of the chase, the fear of the run.

Tyrin breathed audibly through his nose and blew it out through his mouth. As was his usual ritual, he laced his hands over his head and tilted his face to the spitting sky. Water and sweat made his skin gleam. His jaw unclenched and dark brows softened. She violently wished she could breathe out all her darkness like he could. It would have saved her years of pain.

"I said my magic cannot sense you – not that it was fading. How old do you think I am?" He growled lightly.

She shrugged, decided she did not value her life nearly enough, and spoke. "A couple of hundred years at least. Your dress sense is telling."

Tyrin opened his near-glowing eyes. Dangerous. A shiver crawled up her spine. She wanted to play. "Funny, considering we match."

"We do not!" Mortified, Shadow looked down at her tight brown pants and cream tunic, then at Tyrin. "Point taken," She conceded. As long as this game distracted him, she didn't care what was said.

His eyes swept her body, lingering on her wings and back as if he could see all her sins. He cocked his head to the side and scented the air, nostrils flaring delicately.

"Keep your secrets, Shadow, but I'll find the truth. There is something on you that's blocking my magic – and probably yours too. Skies have mercy on you if I find out why."

An entirely different chill crept through her fingers and up through her hands at his expression. She did not doubt it. She should have activated them from the start, then he would have been less suspicious.

It made no difference now what she should have done. She'd have to watch herself – he was far too observant for her liking.

"Then keep trying, Bloodwolf, because youll be digging a long, long time to find what I've buried."

It was the second week of September when he found the diary, merely days after the conversation that had chilled Shadow to the bones in her mother's grave. Tyrin hadn't acted any different towards her, but now he made excuses to be by her side at all hours – night training exercises, morning breakfast to go over techniques and needle information out of her, long runs without much to do but observe. His presence cut her midnight trips down considerably, and the times when she managed to make it out, she spent suspiciously tired the mornings after.

She'd slipped into the forest on that night, following Aodhan to the ever-changing locations and keeping to the darkness. Shadow had her fill of cages. The night was cool, as it always was in Zerech, but there wasnt a breeze to turn the weather frigid. The forest seemed to shiver at her presence as she stalked through, but it was oddly quiet, peaceful.

When Shadow returned, she was splattered in blood – some of it her own – with a borrowed broadsword strapped to her back. The morning was still young and she calculated she had at least four hours to sleep before she was supposed to meet with Tyrin. Despite what she'd done a few hours ago, her mood was considerably light.

That good mood went up in smoke as soon as she opened the door to her cabin. Aodhan, who had flown back ahead of her, was quiet, his head dipped. She could see a male in her room, his muscular frame silhouetted against the light of the fire. Two silver orbs shone like starlight and a straight, sharp row of teeth glinted as he bared them. A leather-bound book lay open on the bed. Shadow's heart began pumping fire instead of blood.

Shock and panic barrelled down her spine. If he could understand what was written there, she'd be worse than dead. Her throat closed up and fingers went numb.

"You had no right," She croaked. She had to get out. What had he read? He was smart – he could have deciphered the code.

The door slammed shut, rattling the cabin walls and closing off the scene. Within seconds she was gone. Her wings kept her airborne before she was knocked from the sky by the wards. And then she ran. Branched whipped across her skin and left stinging red streaks that welled with blood. The damp soil littered with leaves and clothed in moss worked to trip her up and she stumbled a few times. She could hear Tyrin behind her, but she didn't care – didn't stop. She had no destination in mind yet, it was enough just to run for now. That diary had everything in it. Everything he wanted to know. It could ruin her.

Shadow knew it was stupid to keep a physical record of what she'd done, but it was the only way she knew how to stop the darkness from consuming her. She couldnt tell anyone – not without risking so much more. Writing it down was the only way to quiet the monster beneath her skin.