Chapter Forty-three

Shadowlands

The world bent as Lucien’s shadows carried us through.

One heartbeat we stood in the forest; the next, we stepped into a realm that was not earth and not sky — a place between light and darkness. The air was thick and cold, pulsing with faint whispers that brushed my skin like invisible fingers.

The Shadowlands.

Lucien’s realm.

The home of everything that lived without a name.

The sky here was endless gray, the ground black glass that reflected no light. Shapes moved in the distance — shadows without form, watching. Waiting.

I swallowed hard. “So this is where you live.”

Lucien glanced at me, his expression unreadable. “Live isn’t the word I’d use.”

“What would you call it?”

He stepped forward, his long coat sweeping the ground. “Punishment.”

Something in his tone made me pause. “You mean… this place is a prison?”

“In a way.” He didn’t look at me as he spoke. “The Shadowlands are bound to me as much as I am to them. I forged this realm to contain my power — and my sins.”

His voice was low, almost distant. “Every shadow here was once a soul I couldn’t save.”

The words chilled me more than the air. I looked around again, and the shapes in the distance seemed to shift — faint outlines of faces, screaming silently before dissolving into mist.

I turned back quickly. “And you brought me here?”

Lucien’s eyes flashed. “You wanted to hunt her. This is the only way to reach her without crossing the mortal border. Mona’s power bleeds into my realm now — she’s feeding off the boundaries I created. If I don’t stop her, she’ll consume everything.”

I met his gaze. “Then let’s stop her.”

He gave a faint, humorless smile. “You make it sound so simple.”

Before I could respond, the air shivered — a low hum echoing across the barren plain. The ground beneath us rippled like water, and from it rose a figure of crimson mist.

Mona’s voice followed, soft and venomous. Lucien… always watching, always ruling. Tell me — how does it feel to finally lose control?

Lucien’s shadows flared in response, swirling protectively around us. “You’ve overstepped, witch.”

The mist thickened, forming a vague feminine outline. No, Shadow King. I’ve merely stepped where your rules no longer matter.

Then the mist turned toward me. I felt the pull — faint but undeniable — the bond that linked us. Cousin, Mona whispered. You walk in his darkness now. Does it whisper your name as sweetly as it whispers mine?

I clenched my fists, shadows flickering across my skin. “What did you do, Mona? What have you become?”

Her laughter was soft and cruel. What you were always too afraid to be — powerful.

Lucien raised a hand, his voice low and dangerous. “Show yourself, or I’ll drag you from your borrowed magic.”

But Mona only laughed again, the sound echoing through the realm like broken glass. You can’t drag me from what I am. This power isn’t borrowed — it’s earned. The moon chose me. Not her.

The mist flared suddenly, blinding crimson light spilling across the ground. I stumbled back as Lucien’s shadows rose to shield us. When the light faded, Mona was gone — but her words lingered in the air like poison.

See you soon, little wolf. When the moon bleeds again.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Lucien lowered his hand slowly, his expression unreadable. The air around us hummed with fading energy.

“She’s deeper in,” he said finally. “Farther than even my reach. She’s building something — a gate, maybe. Or an army.”

I steadied my breathing, my anger pulsing. “Then we go deeper.”

He turned to me sharply. “No. You’re already tethered to her. If we go farther, she’ll draw strength from your link.”

“I don’t care.”

Lucien’s voice rose, sharp and commanding. “You should! She’s feeding off your rage. Every time you think of her, every time you feel anger, she grows stronger. And if she takes control of that bond, she can use you against me.”

The words struck hard.

I swallowed, staring down at the black glass beneath my boots. For a moment, I could see my reflection — two shadows in one shape.

“What if I don’t fight her?” I whispered. “What if I pull her toward me instead?”

Lucien frowned. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” I said slowly, “that maybe I can draw her out. If I let her think I’m breaking, she’ll come for me. And when she does — we end this.”

He stepped closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming. “That’s not a strategy. That’s suicide.”

I looked up at him, meeting his dark gaze without flinching. “You once told me strength without control is chaos. I’ve learned control. Now let me use it.”

Lucien’s jaw clenched. For a long moment, neither of us spoke.

Then, with a quiet sigh, he said, “If you do this, you do it my way.”

I nodded once. “Agreed.”

He reached out, brushing his thumb lightly across the mark on my palm. The touch sent a shock through me — the shadows flaring in recognition.

“I’ll anchor you,” he said softly. “If she tries to pull you under, I’ll drag you back. But if she takes more than I can give—”

“Then I’ll fight my way out,” I finished.

Lucien’s lips curved faintly — half pride, half warning. “You sound like me.”

I smiled, tired but steady. “Maybe I’ve been listening.”

The air around us stirred again — the whispering souls, the restless dark. Lucien extended his hand, and the shadows gathered, forming a bridge of glass and smoke leading into the deeper parts of his realm.

“Come,” he said. “The longer we wait, the more she feeds.”

I took his hand without hesitation.

The moment our palms met, the darkness shifted — alive, heavy, and full of promise.

Whatever lay ahead, there was no turning back now.

Because beneath the blood moon’s pull, the final hunt had begun.

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