Chapter 11

Senka

As the clock struck midnight, the palace lay shrouded in a blanket of deep darkness. The moon hung high in the sky, casting an ethereal glow over the sprawling grounds. Wolfe and I, dressed in black with our cloaks billowing behind us, made our way through the labyrinth of corridors. The only sound was the soft rustle of our clothing and the beating of our hearts.

Servants roamed the halls, either humming to themselves or dragging their tired feet while not bothering to pay attention to the things that lurked in the shadows. Everyone else was long asleep, preparing for another day of wooing his highness.

I thanked every god that no longer existed for the stupidity of royalty and their unnerving complacency, It would make my job that much easier.

We reached the balcony overlooking the gardens inside a small tea room, and without a word, we scaled down the ivy-covered walls with practiced ease. The night air was cool against my skin, and I found myself grinning at the familiarity of sneaking and sleuthing.

This was where I was meant to be and what I was supposed to be doing, not galavanting around in pretty dresses.

We slipped through the garden like cats, light on our feet and as quick as the wind, reaching the outer wall instead of the gate, where there would be guards positioned just on the other side. Instead, we climbed up and over the wall, the bottom of my boots fitted with rubber shards, which made it easier to dig into smooth surfaces.

The temples near the edge of the royal grounds rose like monoliths in the darkness, their spires reaching towards the heavens in silent supplication. Their beauty even rivaled the castle when the sun managed to hit the arched golden roof, making it shine like a halo of magic in the midday. At night, it glowed faintly blue and reflected the night sky.

We reached the entrance to the temple, where massive marble doors remained closed tightly for the night. They were adorned with precious gems and intricate carvings that represented many of our long-dead rulers and gods.

Wolfe caught my eye, his own reflecting in the night like a cat's and nodded his head for me to follow his lead. We raced around the front of the temple toward a grove of fruit trees that hid a servant's entrance behind them.

Wolfe tried the door and grinned when it pushed open easily. I shook my head again at the complacency.

So trusting and so stupid.

It didn't take long to locate my mark. His damn name was written on a plaque next to his door. It was like a beacon, just begging for death to come calling.

His door was locked, as I expected. At least he'd gone through that much trouble to keep himself alive, I supposed. But it was nothing my shadows couldn't handle.

I felt them rise to the surface, slithering through my veins like tiny little snakes, ready to reach out and strike.

I felt more than saw Wolfe's eyes on me. I felt his curiosity and wariness. It was smart to be nervous around my poison shadows, and he knew exactly what they were capable of.

My eyes were already adjusted to the darkness. I could see everything in near perfect detail, down to the wood grain that made up the priest's locked door.

My shadows slithered out of me, winding through the air like blackened smoke, dipping into the metal lock beneath the door handle. There was a faint click, and then the door was swinging open.

His chambers were illuminated by flickering candlelight, a pool of pearly wax melting into a puddle on the table beside his bed. He was sound asleep, his snoring filling the room like a bear in a cave.

Wolf drew his dagger, his movements were swift and precise. Our eyes met and held as I passed by him, and I knew he was seeing two empty pools of blackness staring back at him.

But Wolfe didn't flinch away. Instead, he simply nodded before pivoting to watch the corridor while I worked. This was the arrangement. This is what Cross needed me for. A swift, seamless death that could not be traced by any human or god-blood. His death would seem natural, as if his old heart had simply given out.

"Say hello to Merikh for me, old man," I murmured under my breath.

A featherlight pressure of a hand grazed the small of my back, and I stilled, sucking in a sharp breath, but I didn't turn to face him. Instead, I kept my eyes on the priest and stepped out of Wolfe's reach. He was an idiot for touching me. A reckless fucking fool.

The room was consumed by an eerie stillness, broken only by the rhythmic sound of the priest"s snoring. The shadows moved with a sense of purpose, creeping towards their target with a chilling grace.

As they slithered into the priest"s open mouth, his body twitched slightly, sensing the intrusion on a subconscious level. Yet he remained asleep, unaware of the darkness that had engulfed him. It was a strange sight to behold, watching life being extinguished so effortlessly.

While Wolfe turned his back to me to peer out the door, I allowed myself to wince. Pain wracked my body as I pulled the priest's death into myself. Wolfe didn't know about the pain I felt with every death. Neither did Cross or Valera, and I planned on keeping it that way.

Once my shadows had completed their task, I stepped back from the bed, feeling the pull of their return. They obeyed, flowing back into me like tendrils seeking refuge in their master. The room fell into an even deeper silence, as if nature itself held its breath.

I turned to Wolfe, whose expression was unreadable in the dim candlelight. There was a glint in his eyes that spoke of a respect that only one killer could have for another killer, a silent understanding between us that transcended words.

After leaving the temple,the priest's body cooling with every second, I seethed in silence. Wolfe had thrown me off back in the temple. Nobody touched me when my shadows were at play. If he'd accidentally come into contact with them or even a sliver of my skin while they were active, he would have dropped dead then and there.

As we walked through the deserted streets of the Andune, the only sound accompanying us was the echo of our footsteps on the cobblestones. Despite the darkness that enveloped us, I could feel Wolfe"s eyes on me, studying me with calculating intensity.

Finally, unable to bear the tension any longer, I stopped in my tracks and turned to face him. "What was that back there? Do you really long for death so badly?"

Wolfe merely smirked, his features set in an enigmatic expression. "Just a test. One you passed, by the way."

"A test?" I nearly choked out in disbelief? "You could have died, you god's damned idiot. Don't ever touch me again when my shadows are out; do you hear me?" Taking a step towards him, I made sure he could see exactly how serious I was. "I would have killed you."

I wouldn't have been able to help it. When the shadows were at full force, they had a mind of their own sometimes.

"And that would have upset you?" he asked, arching a brow. "Interesting…"

His golden eyes dipped for a moment as I lowered my mask to breathe the cool night air. They paused for a moment on my lips.

Narrowing my eyes at him, I made a split-second decision. Leaning in, my hand shot out and grabbed Wolfe"s wrist, pulling him closer to me. Our faces were inches apart, his breath warm against my skin.

"You think this is a game, don"t you?" I hissed, fighting the urge to release my shadows. They twisted and writhed under my skin, begging to come out and defend me.

Wolfe"s look of amusement faltered for a moment, his eyes widening ever so slightly at the sudden change in our dynamics. But then, to my surprise, a glint of something else flickered across his gaze—admiration? Respect?

It was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced once more by his usual nonchalant demeanor.

"You"re right. I shouldn't have touched you when I did." His words hung heavy in the air between us, charged with an unspoken meaning that made my heart quicken.

"You shouldn't have touched me at all," I snapped.

"I don't remember that being a part of your terms." Wolfe's smirk was back, and it made me want to hit him. "Or is the prince the only one allowed to touch you these days?"

I released his wrist, stepping back and breaking the tense connection that had crackled to life between us. The night seemed to close in around us, the darkness pressing down on my skin like a weight I couldn"t shake off.

I sighed, letting the tension fall from my shoulders. "Don't flirt with me, Wolfe. You remember what happened the last time you attempted to get me into your bed."

He snorted, crossing his arms over his wide chest. "I was a boy then. Things are different now."

"Are they?" I asked with an arched brow and a wry smile. "Don't tell me you're still bitter.

"Maybe I am," Wolfe admitted, his tone flat now, devoid of the playful edge he usually had. "But why is that so wrong?" He took a step closer, the moonlight casting shadows on his face as he looked down at me. "You've always been just out of fucking reach. Tonight just reminded me how much I love the chase."

I could feel the pull between us—the dangerous dance we always seemed to fall into whenever our paths crossed. Despite my better judgment screaming at me to stay away, there was a part of me that wanted to lean into that magnetic energy, to see where it would lead.

I was no stranger to sex that led nowhere. To letting my body enjoy the simple pleasure of being touched by hands that knew how to make a woman moan. It's not that I'd never considered using Wolfe for sex, if only to satisfy my own curiosity, but I'd never allowed myself to cross that line.

I knew better than to trust Wolfe—to let down my guard around someone who thrived on secrets and unpredictability. So, I straightened my spine and met his searching gaze with a resolute stare of my own.

"I"m not a puzzle for you to solve. I"m not some game for you to play whenever boredom strikes. If you want me to welcome you into my bed, you're going to have to tempt me with more than your need to prove your own manhood."

For a fleeting moment, Wolfe"s mask slipped, revealing a flicker of challenge in his eyes before it was once again replaced by that infuriating stoicism. I had a sinking feeling that I'd just laid down a fucking gauntlet.