Shadow The Hedgehog Arms Crossed Novels & Stories

What they didn’t anticipate was a large hedge in the shape of an arch with long tall hedge walls on either side. When they reached the entrance, they paused, taking in the sight before them. On the other side of the arch there was a garden tucked away. The garden was overgrown, wild and untamed, the tall hedges formed a natural barrier from the outside world. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, creating a dappled effect on the ground. It felt like stepping into a secret world. “Wow, this place is amazing,” Maya whispered, her eyes wide with wonder. “I can’t believe we’ve never found it before.”

I shouted over the noise. He turned. Sweat plastered his hair to his forehead, dirt and blood streaking his jaw, but his eyes were focused—lethal. Until I saw it. The blood pouring down his left arm. “Shit,” I muttered, rushing toward him. “I’m fine,” he growled, still holding his weapon in his dominant hand. But I could see how stiffly he moved, how his fingers were clenching around the wound. “You’re bleeding like a stuck pig,” I said, grabbing his shoulder and dragging him behind one of the broken pillars near the veranda.

“You’re drooling, Little River.” He teases lightly, and I flush. “Sorry” I murmur, but before he can say anything, something moves beside him and moves towards me as if coming in for a hug. I scream and jump back, only to take a close look… What in the Dr. Facilier shit, is this? Is that his shadow casually coming my way? “I-uh-I…” “Back.” He says, and the shadow seems to deflate sadly and then retreat into his actual shadow.

Men sat in booths with their cigars and their secrets, watching us like they owned the place. And in the back, I saw her. Not like the others. She wasn’t drinking, wasn’t leaning back with her arm stretched across the booth. She was stiff, controlled, almost… out of place. A silk scarf wrapped around her head, sunglasses hiding half her face. Sunglasses in the dark. Weird. I didn’t have time to think about it. The spotlight found me, the beat dropped, and I started my routine. Arch, spin, slide. Smile. Pretend—but suddenly my hand slipped. My foot missed the grip, and I wobbled hard. For a second, I thought I might catch myself but gravity had other plans.

“Just reviewing tomorrow’s agenda.” Bridget’s legs felt like water. She smiled at her father and pretended the aftershocks weren’t still rippling through her. Later, alone in her room, she lay on the bed in the dark and opened the podcast app. *Shadow Marketing* Episode 1 had exploded. 1,200 downloads in a single evening. Comments scrolled: *This is the rawest take on corporate power I’ve ever heard.* *Whoever you are, you get it.* *The shadow claims you… damn.*

“Everything is.” Heat crept reluctantly into my cheeks. I hated how his voice alone affected me now. The worst part was knowing he understood exactly what he was doing. Every conversation between us felt like a chess match layered beneath flirtation and control. I picked up the coat from the mannequin and held it toward the camera. “This one is called Shadow Armor,” I said softly. “Elegant outside. Protective underneath.” Silence crackled briefly through the speaker. Then: “Show me.” The command came softer this time.

“You think you’re the only one?” “You wound me, Delia,” Gray chuckles. She slaps his arm playfully, letting him know it's time to get serious. He straightens up, as all signs of amusement snap from his face in a split second and holds still while she goes to work on the chain in his hands. She places both of her hands a few inches above the metal and whispers some incantation until a low blue glow can be seen from underneath her palms. When the glow fades she moves her warm copper brown hands and sighs.

Shadow spun, claws raking across a rogue’s throat, leaping over another as she commanded the warriors, her mind-link a constant hum of tactics and encouragement. But there were too many. The rogues swarmed, their madness driving them forward despite the traps, despite the death around them. Shadow lunged at the largest rogue, one almost the size of a bear, its fur matted with blood, its eyes empty of sanity. They crashed together, claws and teeth tearing, mud flying.

"Alright, are you ready to hit the road?" I glanced over my shoulder to see him approaching briskly. He was dressed in a dark blue sleeveless shirt and comfortable black athletic shorts. A small canvas utility pouch was clipped securely around his waist, and a clean white hand towel was slung effortlessly over his shoulder. I let out a soft, involuntary chuckle at his appearance, causing him to pause and look at me quizzically. "Well, look at you! You fully look the part of a seasoned, professional tricycle driver!" I teased playfully. Dominic jokingly shrugged his shoulders and dramatically traced his collarbone with his fingers as if boasting about his new status, and the two of us ended u

By now I had moved far enough around for the moon to illuminate his face. He wore a heavy black cape, its hood pulled up over his face. His body was clad in black leather and metal chest plate. Heavy boots on his feet. At his waist dangled a sword, easily bigger than me in length. His skin was a deep tan, his eyes two burning orbs of Amber. He watched me with a steady gaze, never blinking. He looked like he had just stepped out of the crusades, a warrior that belonged to a different time completely. My breath caught in my throat as I took him in. He was beautiful in his own way.