Dream by the Shadows (Shadow Weaver Duology Book 1)

Eyes of molten silver, spinning slowly with shadows and starlight, met mine.

Erebus.

We woke in his bed at the castle, no longer at Citadel Evernight, but for a moment we chose to ignore it. It was a mutually understood commitment to delaying the inevitable, but I didn’t mind. A moment longer, draped in velvet and silk as Erebus held me against his chest—that was what I craved. I ran my fingertips down the side of his face, admiring his features. His hair, no longer black but his usual moon-white, curled over his brow and fell to his shoulders in a tantalizing sweep.

“Your white hair is back,” I whispered, brushing it from his temples. He shivered at the touch, leaning into my hand. “It suits you.”

“Most would say it makes me look like a ghost. Some bloodless, foul creature not meant to exist under the sun.” He lifted part of my hair from where it rested behind my shoulders, rolling it between his fingertips. “I’m not sure when the color faded from my hair and my skin. Maybe it happened the moment I stopped believing I would one day walk free.”

But while his hair had returned to what I knew it to be, his eyes seemed different. They were deeper, somehow, and absolutely radiant.

“And your eyes—”

“Are no longer the only ones with shadows in them,” he finished, releasing my hair before guiding my hand to his lips. “Look at yourself.”

A smooth, glass-like surface appeared in front of me, lifted by tendrils of his power, and I peered at my reflection. Sure enough, my eyes were now as his were: silver and churning with shadows and stars. They would link me to him—make us truly seem united in power and intent.

But I didn’t mind.

In fact, I very much wanted to be associated with this haunted man made of shadows and stars. For so long I’d wanted nothing more than to run from the darkness—to escape Norhavellis and carve out a future for myself somewhere else. I’d dreamed of how wonderful it would be to live a life of normalcy and safety. Once, I’d even dreamed of killing the man that lay before me, pressing his mouth to the inside of my wrist.

But a normal girl living a life without hardships wouldn’t be able to fight Corruption.

A normal girl wouldn’t be able to traverse the Dream Realm, learn its secrets, and emerge stronger because of it.

I needed to fight. I needed to face my purpose with my chin held high, even if the future was uncertain. I needed to fight for Elliot, for what might remain of my mother and father, and for Eden, too.

As soon as I shifted my attention back to Erebus, admiring his mouth and the way his hair fell over the hollows of his cheeks, the mirror retreated back to somewhere else in the room. He held my stare, even when he uncurled my hand and interlaced our fingers, and by his next breath, our hands were covered past the wrist in matching black leather. They were a stark contrast underneath the delicate sleeves of our robes.

“They’re softer than metal, at least. Since you enjoy telling me how sharp and untouchable I am.”

I flexed my hand, unused to the sensation of my hands being so thoroughly covered. “I’m assuming these are for protection against being ‘lost to the Realm’?”

“You’re catching on,” he remarked, a brief smile lifting his expression. Then he murmured, almost as an afterthought, “But perhaps that is no longer the worst of fates.”

His chambers were eerily quiet; there were no demons screaming for their release, no Weavers waiting to question us. It was just us, our spinning shadows, and a faint breeze drifting in from his balcony.

But try as we might, we couldn’t hide here forever.

“Let’s see if Somnus kept his end of the bargain,” I said, beginning to sit up. “I’m thinking we should try the main entrance—”

Shadows roped around my wrists, catching me off-balance and pulling me into a pile of velvet pillows. Erebus leaned over me, quickly replacing the shadows with his hands, and kissed me.

There was no softness or patience in his kiss.

It was all fire, teeth, and tongue—and the vague, aching sense that it might be our last.

“Not yet,” he murmured, covering my body with his. My robe hitched up at the movement, and one of his thighs pressed between mine, pinning me in place. “I say we remain as we are.”

I arched into the feel of him, his surprising heat, and the way his clever lips moved across mine. When I was certain he was perfectly distracted at my neck, I threw the shadows back around him, yanking him out of bed by his shoulders.

“Stop kissing me like it’s our last,” I accused, standing to face him.

His eyes shuttered, betraying raw, desperate emotions clawing for attention. “I’m not.”

I shook my head. “You are . And because of that, we’re getting out of your bedroom and leaving this place. Immediately. We can come back to this”—I gave him a searing kiss of my own—“later. When we’re free.”

He thrashed against the shadows, but they held firm.

“Don’t make me drag you downstairs. It’s a long way down.”

He laughed then, the sound deliciously rich and mirthful. It made my face burn; the shadows slid from his shoulders, falling lazily to his feet. “I’d like to see you try.”

Erebus willed the shadows away as if they were as insubstantial as smoke, storming toward the door to his bedchamber. His robe slipped away as he walked, quickly replaced by his usual armor of liquid night and overlapping scales. He looked back at me, expectant, as the onyx crown he wore when I first met him slid into place, threading into his hair.

“What?” he asked, mouth twitching up into a half-grin. “I wasn’t about to face our fate in a robe. Unless that’s what you’d prefer.”

I decided I quite liked him like this.

Smiling, irritatingly beautiful, and alive .

I did my best to mirror him, willing my robe to change into a dark, flowing dress with scales like his and a crown to match. Adding a slit to the front gave my legs greater range, partially exposing a pair of slim boots, pointed and sharp, that swept up my calves like a second skin. The only thing I didn’t like were the gloves he’d attired us with. I formed a new pair over the old, its claw-like fingertips reminiscent of the ones Erebus used to wear.

Catching him looking at me, I clicked the taloned fingers together. “I wanted to feel what it was like to be sharp and untouchable. I think I like it.”

Identical claws stretched from his gloves as he reached for me. As soon as our hands made contact, the metal covering our palms shifted into black leather. This was surprisingly pleasant; even with the harsh metal on top, I could feel the shape of his palm and the length of every finger.

“What a pair we make,” he murmured. Shadows spun around us in a slow dance. “Claws, scales, and onyx crowns. A wicked king and queen who can perhaps use their darkness for good.”

The castle vestibule was as I had remembered it, candelabras twinkling from their grooves in the walls and extravagant furniture beckoning from the shadows. Claw marks still gouged the walls and most of the tapestries and paintings were hanging loosely in snake-like tendrils, but beauty still remained. The castle was surely a ghost of Erebus’s original creation, but pockets of wonder and artistic intent were apparent. The iron doors were as I remembered, too—colossal and brimming with hundreds of meticulously carved figures.

We stopped just shy of the doors, silent as the weight of what we were about to attempt slid over us. Mithras had forbidden me from doing what I was about to do, but what power did his warning truly hold? The monstrous Shadow Bringer wasn’t a monster after all—and the real demons had already escaped, rendering my initial promise useless. I’d deal with Mithras and the repercussions of my choice later. I had no other choice; this was the path forward.

As long as the doors opened.

“Go first,” Erebus directed, taking a step back. “You should have no trouble stepping free of this place.”

“You have every right to go first. Or we should go together.”

Erebus made no motion to move, arms stiff at his sides. “I insist. Please.”

His uncertainty unnerved me. If the curse hadn’t been lifted, then what hope did we have? I steeled myself, taking a deep breath. If he couldn’t leave, I’d have to find a way forward myself.

There was no other path forward.

“Fine,” I said, quickly grabbing the handles and trying to hide my unease. They were cool underneath my palms, and the carvings, though shadows curled over their forms, were eerily still. “But I’m taking you with me the second I make it over the threshold.”

I pulled.

Surprisingly, it was as effortless as pushing aside a curtain, silent and smooth as the doors slid across the stone. Then, before I could dwell on what happened to Erebus when he temporarily left the boundaries of his castle, I took a quick step over the threshold.

No burning, no melting armor. No skin peeling from my bones.

Nothing.

“Come on,” I beckoned, immediately turning back toward the castle and holding out my hand. Erebus was still partially hidden in the shadows, firmly rooted in place. “I’m not leaving here without you, Erebus.”

He took a step forward, the toes of his boots dusting the threshold. They did not smolder or catch flame; still, when he grabbed hold of my hand, his was shaking. An ugly, unwanted part of my mind screamed at me, a violent, desperate warning. It hissed at me to drop his hand—to push him back inside the castle and slam the door—but I shoved it away, pulling him toward me instead.

I wanted him to be free. I needed him to be free.

Erebus flinched, silver eyes narrowing, but he allowed himself to be guided forward. And, most importantly of all—

He didn’t burn.

Erebus was, after five-hundred years of torment, free .

A heavy breath rushed out of him, trembling at the edges. It was night, as it always was, but stars dappled the sky, illuminating the surrounding forest with its iridescent leaves and a courtyard filled with sculptures, sapphire vases, and stone fountains with star-flecked water. Erebus closed his eyes, tilting his head back. Wind ruffled his hair, meandering through what remained of a few shadows atop his shoulders. His grip on my hand tightened.

A sharp crack from somewhere in the trees snapped us to attention.

What had been silent and motionless a breath before was now pure chaos; demons swarmed at us from beneath the trees, screeching and howling in a desperate, hideous plea. Some ran, some crawled, some limped, but they all moved as quickly as their distorted limbs allowed. Erebus and I brandished our swords at the same time, and shadows rushed from the sky, the ground, and the castle itself to form a protective surge around us.

We didn’t have time to do anything—breathe, think, move.

So we held our ground.

Surprisingly, the demons stopped just before the lowest stair, leaving Erebus and I towering over even the tallest of the horde. Eyes burned from within skulls and teeth gnashed from bleeding lips as they beheld us, making way for two familiar figures: the tall, grey-faced demon with a mottled cape and the coal-eyed demon with a sharp tongue and judgmental stare. The demons who had kept me company—if that was what it could be called—when I was alone in the castle.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they each gave a quick bow.

“These two seem familiar,” Erebus said quietly, pressing a protective hand against my back.

“The grey-faced one led me to your castle; I wouldn’t have found you without its guidance.” I tightened my grip on my sword. The coppery tang of old blood, hot breath, and unwashed fur was close to making me gag. ‘And they both found me when I was alone. They spoke to me from the woods whenever I was on your balcony.”

“What do you want from us?” Erebus asked, eyes sharp and assessing. The demons stilled, listening. “You’re all free now. Unless you’re back to demand your end—in which case, Esmer and I can gladly oblige.”

A chill swept down my spine, brutal and sharp. Erebus and I against hundreds of demons was foolish—an impossibility. But there was no other way out. The sword in my hands seemed to sense my desperation; it hummed, faintly warming my hands.

From its knees, the grey-faced demon’s lips twisted into a deformed smile. “We aren’t free yet. But soon we will be. ”

The coal-eyed demon nodded, expression solemn. “Free us. Cleanse us. Only you know how. ”

The demons rose at the same time, a fiery, demanding hunger burning in their eyes.

And then they charged.

Erebus roared, bringing the surge of shadows down like a scythe. The force slammed the first wave into the stairs with a brutal crack that sent stones flying and hurled dozens more back into the woods. In the middle of the chaos—between bleeding mouths, snarling teeth, and desperate lunges for our feet—Erebus threw us backward into a doorway-sized shadow.

It felt like slipping into a cold, icy pit. Like ice was sliding through my veins and a wind was pouring through the inner workings of my heart and plucking out anything dark or broken. It felt painful, briefly—but then it became a deep, comforting relief. Something that held onto my soul and poured water through its cracks, setting it free.

We stumbled from the shadow, now on the other side of the castle’s sprawling courtyard.

“What was that?” I quickly asked. The demons hadn’t noticed us, but it would only be a matter of seconds before they did. “It felt like my entire being was being cleansed. Or judged.”

Erebus’s jaw tensed. “I could feel the shadows working to pull something out of you. To examine—as you said—your very being. Your soul, perhaps.” He looked at me briefly, eyes flashing in concern. “Did it hurt you?”

“No,” I said, giving a firm shake of my head. “The opposite, really. Like a cold bath after a long journey in the sun.”

Some of his concern ebbed. “Good.”

“Would you be able to create something like that again? A doorway big enough that all the demons could fit?” The demons noticed us; they roared in frustration, hurling themselves from the stairs and the trees. “If the shadows can quell or purify the demons, it might be our only chance at stopping them.”

Erebus’s mouth tightened. “Yes. But while I’m doing that, I’ll need your help containing them. A wall”—the demons were nearly upon us, crashing through the central fountain—“or a tunnel. Now—hurry .”

I shoved my fear aside and focused on the shadows; if I couldn’t manipulate them, we’d be lost. They felt like a web around me—a web with strings I could pull and shape. I mentally pulled one, two—it wouldn’t be enough —then grasped for fistfuls and armfuls, forcing them into a tunnel that the demons began to surge through.

Not enough.

I squeezed the shadows narrower and narrower, resisting every part of me that wanted to scream or run. The tunnel was as large as I could make it; I had no more to give.

It has to be enough.

The first demons to reach us lunged for our throats. I flinched, losing my grip on all the threads—and they crashed over the demons like a wave, merging with a pitch-black gateway that Erebus hurled down the tunnel in a frantic sweep.

For a brief moment, all was dark.

And then—

It was as if the shadows had been pulled from the sky itself, rendering the stars as brilliant as I’d ever seen them. The castle and its courtyard were washed in silver, revealing hundreds of demons losing fur, teeth, claws, skulls, wings—hundreds of broken, distorted creatures transforming before our eyes into men and women. They were human.

All of them.

The grey-faced demon had become an equally tall man with dark, honey-brown hair, and the coal-eyed demon was now a pale, lithe man with sharp features and black hair that framed his jaw in a smooth sweep. I recognized them instantly—they were the two men who entered the coliseum with Erebus at Evernight.

“Ceveon—Sorren,” Erebus choked out, falling to his knees. “All this time, you were both here—?”

“Always,” Ceveon said weakly, attempting a small but roguish smile. A few tears began to slide down his light brown face, but he brushed them away before they could so much as reach his jaw. “For you, always. Though your castle got to be a bit stifling, I’ll admit. Especially when you can’t communicate properly inside its walls.”

“Stifling? That’s putting it lightly.” Sorren muttered, scowling at Ceveon. But when he turned to behold Erebus and I, his face settled into something that nearly resembled relief. His eyes, like Ceveon’s, were glittering, but he did not cry. “Fortunately, five centuries pass like a blink when your mind is tethered to that of a demon’s. Now the curse is broken and the real work can begin.”

“I—”

“How curious,” a new voice interrupted, its silky pitch threading through the courtyard, “that the demons in your castle weren’t demons at all. Merely locked up souls, just as the tales declare. But you broke that narrative when you set them free today.”

Somnus slid from the trees, hair covering his robes in inky tendrils. He didn’t look at all surprised to find us; in fact, I sensed he had been watching the scene unfold from the very beginning.

“Somnus,” Erebus bit out, surging to his feet. Around us, dreamers struggled into sitting or kneeling positions. Hundreds of dreamers, some sobbing, some groaning, some staring silently at the stars. Ceveon and Sorren staggered to their feet, flanking Erebus and I. “You knew. You knew that these men and women were locked inside the bodies of demons. All of this time—all of this time .”

“I had an idea. Though it was not mine alone,” Somnus admitted, scarcely touching the ground as he strode toward us. “Aren’t you happy I led them back to you?”

“Happiness would have meant being freed five-hundred years ago. Myself and all of these innocent dreamers.”

“Impossible,” Somnus said with a shrug. “Your entire domain was locked from outside interference until the moment you stepped free from it. You have Esmer to thank for that—whom, by the way, you wouldn’t have had the pleasure of meeting had you been freed five-hundred years ago.”

I found Erebus’s hand and squeezed it. Shadows leftover from the dreamers’ cleansing drifted around our bodies, winding through our fingers and clinging to our feet like they wished to protect us.

“She is the only solace I’ve had,” Erebus rasped, more to me than to Somnus.

“Either way, I saved you the hassle of collecting all these poor, lost souls. They scattered like mindless beasts the moment they broke free,” Somnus continued, giving Erebus and I a withering stare. “Fortunately, leaving the castle allowed them to speak and have a somewhat functioning sense of logic. Otherwise, my task would have been a bit more complicated. A strange curse indeed.”

I shook my head. “But they’re not mindless at all. They’re human . All of them.”

“That depends on your definition of ‘human’. Their mortal bodies have already perished, but their souls remain intact. That will be something to deal with when you begin commanding them, I’m afraid.” He added, muttering darkly, “If they will even listen, that is.”

“What do you mean, ‘deal’ with?” Erebus bit out, face paling.

“We passed your test and proved ourselves to be true,” I added. “We owe you nothing else.”

“Oh, this concerns much more than myself,” Somnus said, sweeping his arms wide. “You have a corruptive curse to break, a half-dead army to train, and a red-eyed demon thirsting for your souls. Quite the mess on your hands.”

A serpentine smile slid across Somnus’s lips.

“Best get started, Shadow Weavers.”