Page 41 of Shannon in Sombra
With the faripoz—the flutterbys… no,butterflies—continuing to lead us deeper into the shadows, I stay in mine, hovering anxiously just a few steps after my mate. I’m prepared to grab Shannon and tuck her behind the safety of my shadows at any moment. Will she allow it? After the bold way she challenged the huigitz before the other human females calmed the raging beast with their song, I am convinced there is nothing that will hold my Shannon back.
I am careful, though. Whoever stole Alana is tricky. Dangerous. It takes a human to think like one of their kind, and though I’ve spent many cycles in Shannon’s world, there is so much I still do not understand.
Taking someone’s spawn? That is not how it is done in Sombra. Nothing will stop me from retrieving her—and I am grateful for the help from my fellow demons and their beloved mates—but, again, it seems as though the shadows and the butterflies are sending us on a wayward path.
I sense Shannon’s fear and frustrations traveling down our bond. The only thing I can do is send her another pulse of reassurance.
Well will find her. We will get her back.
Shannon stopped running once she realized that the seemingly endless shadows won’t welcome such a quick pace. We’re in the lead, with Glaine, Billie, and Lucian right behind us. The rest of the human females—Sierra, Hope, Tandy, and Kennedy—are shielded by Sammael, Damien, and Loki, guarding all of our backs. We’ve formed a circle, our small clan, and it’s only after Shannon lets out a sound of anguish as the butterfly flaps its wings before winking into the dark that one of us breaks it.
It’s Lucian. The powerful seer steps away from where he was flanking Glaine’s mate along with the soldier.
Shannon senses the motion. She turns, eyes accustomed enough to the shadows—and Loki’s faint spell—to find Lucian’s shape, topped with the vibrant purple mage eyes watching her closely.
My hand reaches for hers, enclosing her trembling fingers in my grasp.
Gratitude and pain hit me, and if I wasn’t doing everything a demon possibly could to be strong and brave for his mate, her emotions might have broken me. Just like I thought when she was laboring to give birth to our spawn, I will always do what I can to take her pain from her.
And gratitude? I am her male. I am hermate. She never has to thank me for being there to support her.
“Shannon,” I murmur.
Twisting her hand in my shadows, she searches the corporeal form hidden a few inches past the hazy edges of my form. Squeezing my finger, as much as she can hold my hand at the moment, she quiets me before turning her attention to Lucian.
“You’ve got a roadmap in that head of yours, Lucian. Don’t you?”
My Shannon has always had a unique way of putting things. Even though most of the human females have fallen into the habit of speaking in Sombran while they live in Nuit, she uses mortal words and manners of speech regardless of the language. It’s something else I adore about her, and if Lucian cocks his head slightly, I’m sure he knows what she means.
Just in case, she huffs and explains. Tapping her temple, she says, “In here. You see where we’re going. What we’re supposed to do. Like with that huigl-whats-it. You could tell that Billie, Sierra, and Tandy would need to sing together to get around it. Right?”
Lucian nods. “Yes. So much of the future was red, but when the red moon ended, the shadows took its place. Now that we’re here… I get flashes. My brother… hefeels. Even our dear one can tell from our essence that this is it. The end or the beginning.”
From her place behind us, Tandy agrees. “He’s right, Shannon. Trust me. Whatever Lucian’s got in his head, you don’t want to see it. You don’t want to know what might happen if the rain doesn’t stop.”
“And the rain won’t stop until the baby’s tears have dried,” murmurs Damien in his soft, sad, lyrical voice.
Shannon’s breath hitches. I circle her wrist, tugging gently, tucking her in my arms, murmuring platitudes I only hope are true.
She shudders, her wee human hand a brand against my chest as she needs contact with me.
Lucian takes pity on us. “We doppelseers see not how this will end, only that the path to your child is a winding one.”
“No shit. We were going in circles until Freya and the other ungez helped us. Then there was the big moose-lion-looking monster. What the hell is stopping us now?”
Instead of answering Shannon, Lucian glances back at the others. “Ashbalm flower. We need to find an ashbalm flower.”
“What’s that?”
Shannon is just as confused as I am. An artist all my life, I’ve rarely approached the edges of Sombra’s shadows, let alone gone this far into its depths. I thought I knew every type of flower that could grow among the ash fields of Nuit, but I’ve never heard of this one.
The dark-haired human female—Sammael’s mate—lifts her pale hand. “I know.”
“Hope?” My mate doesn’t hide her surprise. “You do? What is it?”
Her gaze darts over to Sammael before she gestures around her. “It’s a flower. I mean, obviously. But it grows in here. In the shadows.” Dropping her hand to her side, she adds, “I had to look for one once.”
Sammael’s purple eyes flicker. “Haures never should’ve sent you to search for the flower on your own.”
