Page 33 of A Court of Ravens
I laugh, a little self-conscious, but her bluntness pulls the truth from me. “Fine. Yes, I like him. Ever since I met him, it’s like…I don’t know. I feel moremethan I’ve ever felt. I’ve never been the type to stop a room with my looks—not like you—but with him, that doesn’t matter. He sees me. And in his eyes, I find a version of myself that I actuallylike. It’s crazy and fucking terrifying. Who feels like that? Like they’re flying just because someone else sees them?”
Cyn shrugs. “Not me, love. You know relationships aren’t my thing. But if it works for you, then I’m happy for you. You deserve it. Especially after what that maggot put you through.”
I snort, shaking my head. “You certainly don’t mince words. This is why I bloody love you.”
“I know.” Cyn grins, but her edges soften as I wrap her in a hug.
“Okay, let’s not get carried away here.” She pushes me back with mock disgust. “Just know, if he hurts you, I’ll kick his ass. Hard.”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
Cyn wrinkles her nose, giving me a once-over. “And take a shower. Youreekof sex.”
I roll my eyes, hopping off the bed. “So, does this mean you’re giving up on Tomas?”
Her scowl is instantaneous. “It’s still my bloody birthday. Forget the bet—Irefuseto be snubbed. I’m going to fuck him. He just doesn’t know it yet.”
Poor Tomas. He doesn’t stand a chance.
The lights flicker. Not the lazy kind you’d blame on old wiring. This feels intentional, like the island is reaching out to me. My stomach knots as the shadows shift, stretching like they’re alive.
It’s not the first time. The cold wraps around me, dragging me back to the apartment above my parents’ shop. Most kids imagine monsters under the bed. I didn’t have to imagine. Iknewthey were real.
The shadows would come at night, curling around the edges of my bed like ink spreading through water. They didn’t growl. No, they whispered.Scáth Cailleach, come and play with us.They’d trail along my skin, tickling my feet. Teasing. Coaxing. I’d burrow under the blankets, holding my breath like it might save me.
When I screamed, my mum came running. Warm hugs, soft reassurances, the closet checked, the bed searched. “See? No monsters,” she’d say, leaving the light on to chase them away. It worked—for a while.
But the whispers always came back. Softer. Closer. I’d lie there, frozen, praying sleep would find me before they did.
The lights flicker again, dragging me back to the present. My heart races as the air turns colder. The shadows press closer, breathing along the edges of the room.
Cyn doesn’t even notice. She waves it off like it’s nothing. “Man, I hope they’ve got a backup generator. I need a shower, too.”
She’s gone before I can answer. I manage a nod, but my attention is locked on the way the darkness shifts. The room feels smaller. The air is heavier, like the shadows are waiting. Watching.
The lights stutter once more as I step toward the bathroom, my pulse pounding. It’s not electrical. It’s never the wiring. Whatever this is, I swear it’s been hunting me forever.
And now, it’s done waiting.
ChapterFourteen
NIALL O’LEARY
“The Sluagh are always hungry.”
The Other Crowd Guidebook for Mortals
The beach stretches, quiet except for the waves clawing at the shore. I keep my pace slow, letting the sea air cool my heated thoughts.Felicity.Her name alone sends a fresh wave of dread through me. She’s more than I bargained for. Shadows dance to her heartbeat. That’s not something I can ignore.
The wind picks up, biting through my shirt. My stallion snorts in the back of my mind. Restless. Impatient. He wants answers as much as I do.
“Easy, boy,” I mutter. Not that he listens.
Bonding was never about desire. I learned that the hard way with Kaida. Vicious never lets me forget how well that ended. It was always about obligation. My sister. The survival of our kind. I resigned myself to the role long ago, burying any hope of wanting more beneath prophecy and guilt.
And then Felicity came along—her maddening laugh, her impossible shadows—shattering every plan I ever made.
The gravel path crunches underfoot as I near the cottage. I hear voices. Tomas. My father.Shit.I murmur an incantation and trace a symbol in the air, throwing a glamour over the mark on my neck. I open the cottage door. The driftwood mirror in the foyer glows faintly, and sure enough, his image wavers in the glass when I step through the door. Tomas is already leaning against the wall like he hasn’t got a care in the world. The two stop talking immediately.
