Shadow Word: Pain Novels & Stories

“Who.” The air dropped in an instant. Breath froze in their lungs, every candle guttering but never quite dying. The chamber seemed to fold inward, as if the walls themselves bent closer, pressing down on their ribs. Then, with a groan that echoed like bones breaking, the seal cracked. From its heart spilled shadow — but not like theirs. Not crow-black. Not familiar. This shadow was older, heavier, soaked in memory. Its edges gleamed red as if dipped in fire. A feather emerged. Long. Brittle. Stained faintly with blood.

I wrap my fingers tightly around the cold, rusted iron, raising my hand until the jagged tip of the nail is pressed firmly against the sensitive skin of my throat. "If you allow yourself to survive here any longer, he will only break you down until there is nothing left. You need to beat Archie to the punch. If your entire existence is going to be reduced to endless torture in this house, then it is better... it is so much better to just end it now. Let the suffering finally stop..." I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing every muscle in my body as I prepare for the white-hot flash of physical pain to wash over me. I hold my breath, completely surrendering myself to the rapidly approaching embrace

"Trust me, I'm not Jamal please… Believe me. It was complicated. She pleaded tearfully. "Do you realize the gravity of what you've just done? You deceived me, Natasha – that's what you did. I now see the reason why you had rushed all of this. How can you explain to me that you had cancer and hid it so long until now and my daughter too is affected, why,why did you do this... takes a deep sigh and continued You know what, this situation is not just complicated; it's like a labyrinth of emotions. Honestly.. you're more haunting than a nightmare, and trust me, every fiber of my being aches with regret for being entangled in this".

"I won't accept that some shadow lord with a convenient contract and political advantage has earned what fate designated as mine!" The bond pulsed in his chest—not with the warm comfort it had once provided, but with hollow ache that seemed to grow stronger with each passing day rather than fading as everyone had predicted. If anything, the reports of Xalara's contentment only intensified the pain, as if the universe was mocking his loss by showing him exactly what he had failed to protect.

My shadows slid along that invisible thread, wrapping it in a silent brand only I could feel. A tracker. A promise. Damien’s smile faltered as he sensed the shift. “What are you—” Pain exploded behind my eyes. The dagger reacted instantly, violently, as if enraged by my claim. A shockwave of power blasted outward, slamming into my chest. My shadows screamed and surged in response, no longer content to coil quietly. They erupted. Darkness poured off me in a tidal wave, wrapping my body from throat to ankle, lifting my hair in a storm of black ribbons. I felt them slipping past my control, feeding on the dagger’s fury, amplifying it.

And this hall has the most tragic death in near history, when Xirrian and Adeline left this world in smoke and shadow. And though I have forbidden the shadows from this place, there are the rebellious like those in the maze who venture time to time. Still, it is an exceedingly rare occurrence and I would have sensed any shadow that dared. Still, I move urgently towards her, my hands reach to stabilize her shaking frame. I realize this in itself is comfort. I do not know how I know this, but I repeat what I learn from Shade. "Mother—" I repeat and at my touch, her gaze snaps back to me, a tear escaping from the corner of her eye.

Light shot from our joined bodies, golden and white, slamming into the shadow, wrapping around it like chains forged from sunlight. The shadow shrieked. The sound was not audible—it was a pressure inside my skull, a vibration in my teeth, a scream that bypassed the ears and went straight to the soul. It thrashed, tearing at the light, but the bonds held. Kaelen's voice rose from the water, chanting words in a language older than the packs, older than the Lycan kings, pulling the shadow down, inch by inch, toward the black pool. We were winning. Then the shadow spoke.

I showed him the messy, inefficient, beautiful reality of a life that chooses to be flawed. The Shadow shrieked—a sound of a billion turning gears suddenly grinding to a halt. His geometric armor began to sprout irregular, organic growths. His white-hole light turned the warm, imperfect color of a sunset. "SYSTEM... ERROR..." he gasped, his form beginning to dissolve into a cloud of real, organic ash. "THE... VARIABLE... IS... TOTAL..." The Shadow exploded, but not into fire. He exploded into a Wave of Texture. The wave swept upward through the roots, through the Spire, and out across the Emerald Sea.

Did they abuse my body, or did I fall apart without a soul to sustain it? "What did you do to me?" I croak, blaming the shadows for my suffering. For all I know, none of this has been real, although the pain I feel in my mate's heart through our reignited bond speaks otherwise. "Shadow walking has its consequences." The darkness, which now seems more substantial to my sight than it had before, moves towards me, shrouding my cage in darkness. "And if you are gone too long, your body will wither and die for real, leaving only this," he pauses, "echo of what you once were."

An image of a woman with unnervingly dark, knowing eyes and a cruel, painted smile appeared on the screen. She swiped to the next file. "Whisper-in-Shadow. A Fae assassin who can literally parasitize a target's shadow, becoming one with it. The entry says not even a Prime Alpha's senses can detect him until the moment of the killing blow." The corresponding image was a swirling vortex of darkness, vaguely humanoid, a shape that seemed to hurt the eyes to look at.