31. Talon

CHAPTER 31

Talon

True to his word Rider refused to talk to me about Sawyer and the novices as we headed back to the Tower. We grabbed some food from the kitchen but parted ways on the top floor of the Tower to go to our separate rooms. Rider had a meeting with his seneschal to go over the latest supply orders, and I had a fresh set of reports from Ash’s Shadow Guard about what the nobility were doing in the Gold Tower that I needed to look at.

Strangely, my shadow was quiet, content to rest under my skin, woven through — or rather trapped in — my magical ability to control darkness. It had been excited to see Sawyer standing by the trail’s entrance and had been as relieved as I was that we hadn’t seriously hurt him after feeding on him yesterday.

But even as excited as it was — which made it hard for me to look away — it kept a tight hold on its allure, knowing it was far too soon to feed on the boy again.

At least until the shadow dragon had screeched and we’d realized the beast had to have been after Sawyer. Then it had tried to explode from my body, take control, and save him.

It had taken everything I had to obey Rider’s orders and start the afternoon training while he, Slate, Zorin, and Jalnar had rushed off, and while my shadow had relaxed the moment Sawyer had hobbled into sight, the rest of me still churned with frustration that Rider had commanded Sawyer to return to training after Flint had dressed his wound.

And that frustration had turned to anger when he’d told Sawyer to run the trail again.

I closed my eyes and sent my spirit to the Garden, choosing to appear a few feet from the three benches just outside the courtyard where we were supposed to meet.

Rider sat alone, his attention focused over his shoulder across the manicured lawn and flowerbeds to a small pool that sat near the main path to the courtyard. The space around it was empty, the small stone bench an invitation for solitary meditation or a very intimate conversation, and I had no idea why he was so intent on it.

Maybe he’d seen a rabbit or something and his wolf was straining for control. I had no doubt he was just as pissed as I was about the afternoon, just for different reasons.

Black smoke swirled into the space beside me, and Quill’s spirit form manifested. He wore a green and gold jerkin instead of his black Guardsman uniform like Rider and I did, the colors accentuating his green eyes and golden hair.

My breath stalled even as my shadow undulated under my skin. After feeding on Sawyer and Quill yesterday it was satisfied — more or less — but it felt my love for Quill and sympathized with my heartache over never being able to bond with him.

Of course, it was also confused as to why I refused to bond with him since that was what I desperately wanted, because it didn’t understand the complex emotion of loving someone so deeply you’d sacrifice your desires to see them happy.

“What are you looking at?” Quill asked as he sat on the bench across from Rider.

Rider jerked his attention away from the pool and ran his hand through his hair. A few strands fell out of his topknot and framed his face, drawing my attention to the exhaustion in his silver eyes and reminding me that I wasn’t the only one struggling right now.

“Nothing,” he replied, his voice gruff.

Quill raised an eyebrow at that, but I wasn’t sure at what. Rider didn’t usually stare at nothing, but with everything going on at the Black Tower it wouldn’t have surprised me if he’d just been lost in thought trying to figure out how to turn our current group of novices into a team and get them into a full rotation as quickly as possible.

Someone barked a hearty laugh inside the courtyard, the green curtains hiding whoever it was from view.

The mood in the Garden had become brighter, louder, and more hopeful since the arrival of the new, redhaired woman a few nights ago. Everyone was eager to meet her, court her, hell, just help her ease the building sexual pressure from her mating marks.

Even if they didn’t have magic and knew they’d never be mated, she was another chance for them to be with a fae woman.

Everyone except Quill.

He didn’t just want a little sex. He wanted a mate and children, and every time a new woman showed up he got hopeful… and then disappointed, which broke my heart a little more each time.

Three men stepped out of the courtyard, one of them gesticulating wildly, telling a story that the other men were laughing at. The man on his right elbowed him and jerked his chin at Rider and all three of them shared a strange, knowing look, the kind of look the Guardsmen gave each other in Lehyrst when they managed to score one of the prettier, or more talented, pleasure house girls.

Quill quirked an eyebrow and glanced at me, but I had no idea what it meant. Whatever it was, I doubted it was true. Rider had been abstinent since his human wife had died so the look mustn’t have been what I thought it was. Which only made me wonder what else it could have been.

But before I could figure it out, Ash materialized on the other side of the benches. He was dressed all in black — although not his Guardsman uniform — with his jaw-length dark-brown hair hanging lose, partially hiding the ugly red scar marring the right side of his face. His obsidian gaze darted around us as if he was looking for someone, his body tense, before he realized what he was doing and his posture and demeanor snapped to his usual, in-control calm.

“We need to make this quick,” he said, dropping onto the third, unoccupied bench in our seating area.

“Worried Mikel and his group will try something tonight?” Quill asked as I sat beside him.

“I’m not sure.” His attention danced past Rider’s shoulder, back to looking for someone for a second, then jumped back to us. “It helped that Sawyer came back to training and you made him run the trail again, but I’m concerned about how far Durand and Mikel are willing to go.”

“And I’m concerned you pushed him too hard today,” I said, Ash reminding me that I was pissed at Rider for making the boy run while injured .

“He’s not a child,” Rider snapped, his gaze starting to shift back to the pool before he ran his hands through his hair, stopping his head from turning, and glared at me. “Flint didn’t keep him or put him on bedrest, so he couldn’t have been hurt that badly.”

“I’d beg to differ on the child part,” I said, meeting Rider’s glare, my shadow writhing over my hands and arms.

Quill grabbed my hand and the pressure and smoke from my shadow eased, its writhing softening into a gentle caress over our skin. “He’s fine. His limp was a little more pronounced once he’d finished running with the rocks, but he didn’t look upset about going past the place where he’d been attacked by the shadow dragon.”

“Maybe he wasn’t attacked and didn’t see it,” Ash suggested. “Maybe it went after something else and the boy was just nearby.”

“Nope, he saw it,” Rider said. “He had shadow blood on the tip of his sword.”

“Well, shit,” Ash huffed. “The boy’s got a target tattooed on his forehead or something. He managed to piss off Durand enough to make him snap and almost drown him.”

“Drown him? Durand almost drowned him?” I jerked forward, my shadow suddenly furious, lashing at the air around me despite Quill’s calming presence and the fact that I was in my spirit form where my shadow should have been weaker.

“What the hell?” Ash hissed, jerking back to avoid a slashing tendril, his eyes wide with surprise. “Is this what happened yesterday?”

“More or less,” Rider growled, his hand going to his dagger.

Shit. I didn’t want to get stabbed again. My arm still hurt and even though I was in my spirit form where physical pain was usually lessened, I couldn’t afford anymore injuries, since injuries taken in our spirit form appeared on our bodies.

He’s fine… more or less. Durand didn’t drown him. He’ll be okay. I mentally heaved at my shadow as Quill pressed a hand to my back and rubbed slow, calming circles.

But my shadow was furious that Sawyer had been in danger. He was mine, and I had to protect him. Mine!

No. Fuck! I thought at it. Not mine.

But my shadow didn’t care. Sawyer had what it needed, was a perfect match for whatever that was, and it wasn’t going to give him up. Ever. It would fight everyone and everything to keep its food source safe?—

My thoughts stuttered at that. Food source was wrong. Sawyer wasn’t just a means for it to stay alive, he was home. It needed to keep its home safe.

Which didn’t make any sense because I was currently its home, not Sawyer.