I hadn’t sensed him the other nights. Neither had Casteel. But he didn’t have to be here to watch, to see. He would only need an Ascended.
Or a Revenant.
My mind returned to the night I’d asked Casteel to take me while I stood in front of the glass wall. Had I known on some innate level thathewas watching through another’s eyes? And had I…provoked him for some reason?
He’d watched Casteel and me. I’d ensured it, even if I didn’t consciously realize I was doing it. That made me feel thatstickinesson my skin again. Made me want to peel the flesh from my bones. Made me feel…
Rage.
Pure, unadulterated rage that was all mine—allthe versions of who I once was. In that moment, I could fully accept that. Because the fury had festered and grown for centuries. Now, it burned through the shock and blazed out of control.
Essence flooded my veins as I turned from the window, quietly crossing the bedchamber, my will forming in my mind. I stepped into the dining chamber, having the presence of mind to put some space between Casteel and me so as not to wake him. I kept walking, guided by instinct, until I reached the Solar. The air charged before me as a thin, silvery line appeared and widened, stretching wide, creating a gap. The earthy, slightly sweet scent of elm trees enveloped me as I walked through the tear, my feet leaving the smooth stone to meet the damp, cold grass at the Cliffs of Sorrow.
I turned sharply, scanning my surroundings until I found the Cliff’s edge where I’d seen the form.
It was empty now.
But I knew I wasn’t alone.
Calming my pounding heart, Ilistenedto the night as I stood there, fingers twitching at my sides: the wind stirring the reedy grass and wildflowers and tossing my hair across my face. The trilling calls of nightbirds singing to one another. The steady rush of water over rocks, splashing and slipping over the deep crevices and edges. I focused, seeking the sounds under them. The soft smack of birds hopping through the branches of the elms crowding the Peaks. The rustle of critters moving quickly through the grass—
My head tilted to the left as I picked up something larger and heavier, cracking a twig. The deeper thud of weight shifting. Either I was hearing the silent watcher or a tree bear.
If it was the latter, I was about to regret this life choice.
I zeroed in on the sounds and crossed the meadow faster than I’d seen Casteel move. I would let myself be impressed by the speed later.
I shot into the thick shadows beneath the elms like an arrow unleashed, not even slowing as the form took shape—tall, slender of shoulder and build, dark-haired. Wings painted in crimson, the tips stretching to the pale skin of his hair and jawline. Later, I would also let myself enjoy the flicker of surprise I saw in the Revenant’s lifeless, pale-blue eyes as he jerked back a step.
There was no time for that now.
I slowed as I walked toward him, briefly taking in his features. He appeared young, a boy barely on the cusp of manhood—too young for this to be his fate. The tragedy of that usually would’ve caused my chest to ache with the unfairness of what had been done to him. And maybe later, my good heartwouldache. But right then, I didn’t give a fuck as I kept an eye on his hands in case he went for a weapon.
Eather warmed my throat. “Hello.”
The moment my voice hit the air, the Cliffs went silent. No birds sang. No critters moved. The Revenant, however, did not remain still.
He spun on his heel.
Snapping forward, I grabbed him by the back of his neck. “Going somewhere?”
I didn’t wait for an answer. I dug my fingers into his skin and lifted him off his feet, hurling him away.
My strength stunned me as I turned, watching the Revenant fly through the air as if he were nothing but a small pebble.
I would definitely be impressed bythatlater.
The Revenant smacked into the trunk of an elm with a crack like thunder. He landed on his hands and knees. As I prowledtoward him, the scent of stale blood reached me, turning my stomach. The Revenant started to push up.
I decided to help him.
I drove my knee into his chin, snapping his head back and making him topple backward. I didn’t give him a chance to recover. Bending, I grabbed his throat again and lifted him, slamming him into the elm, splintering the bark, and sending a shower of serrated leaves cascading to the ground.
With a quick look, I spied the long, spike-like dagger strapped to his thigh. He reached for it at the same moment I did, but I was faster.
Wrapping my fingers around the iron hilt, I tore it from its sheath. The blade was black. Shadowstone. And long—nearly the length of my forearm.
Perfect.
