The Shadows Have No Face || 𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑

So Sour, So Sweet

"How long is it going to be?" I grumbled.

"You don't want to know."

Wonderful. Fantastic. I gave a long, pained sigh at the idea of flying longer than a minute. I waved a hand in front of me and said, "Let's just get it over with, then."

"Hold on tight," he said, stepping closer.

I grabbed his leathers and said, "You say that every time, and yet it still always feels like I'm falling to my death."

"Don't worry. I would never drop you," he said.

"Sure. But how about we never test that?"

He chuckled, and I leaned further into him as the shadows wrapped around us. His scent filled my lungs, and the warmth of his body surrounded me as the shadows did.

They swirled around us, only inches from my face. Thick tendrils of darkness slipped through iridescent blue, black, and purple colors. Glittering like starlight. Yet they were so different from the High Lord's magic.

Rhysand's darkness looked like black sand and moved in this uniformity under his complete control. But the shadows... they layered on top of each other and moved in all directions with no clear idea of what the others were doing. It was a school of disoriented fish.

I already knew what to do when the shadows dissipated and revealed light, and held on as we started flying over the open ocean. The land was barely visible in the distance, obscured by fog and looking void of all life.

I gave him a worried look. "Are you sure we're in the right place?"

He nodded. "They made Cretea look like an island of ruins. Once we pass the wards, you'll see the real city."

"Is it pretty?" I asked.

"Like a painting," he answered, smiling slightly.

The closer we came to the island, the more I could feel the wards in front of us. Thick and sticky, covering my skin in goosebumps. As we passed through, the magic slithered around and inspected us before deciding we were no threat.

We glided through the wards, and I watched the fog lift from the island like a sheet to reveal a sprawling city. Towers were scattered across the beaches, where apartments crowded along the cliff sides. Streets webbed through the entire island and split everything into sections.

We flew over the city to the opposite end, where there was a large manor against the cliff-side. I assumed this was our destination. Gardens surrounded it, and I found it strange that there were no fences to keep others out.

Once we landed in front of the entrance, the doors opened. I waited until he moved first and followed behind into a beautiful white entryway. The staircase twisted up two flights of stairs, and a chandelier hung in the center of it all.

Two people walked in through the left side, which looked to be a sitting room. A woman and a man stopped in front of us. I studied the woman, finding myself confused. She looked High Fae—and yet wasn't. Something about her told me she wasn't. And the male... he had attached to his back a set of white feathered wings.

"You're late," the woman said, looking at Azriel.

He gave a small smile. "It's good to see you again, Miryam."

Oh, so this was Miryam, the half-human, half-fae. And this male must be Drakon, her mate and husband. I offered my hand and my name to them, and Miryam smiled, taking my hand in hers.

"We've heard many things about you," she said. "It must've been a tiresome journey. Come, we have dinner prepared. You can tell us all about it then."

We followed the two through this manor, which looked relatively untouched. Dust hung on many surfaces, and there were folded sheets in the corners of rooms that I thought once covered the furniture. There was also something else. This weight held to everything. An eye staring at me from beneath my feet. Something was wrong with this place. I could feel it.