A dragon shifter novel Chapter 35

The Shadows That Haunt Me

Allison

The door doesn’t creak when it opens. The shadows swallow the sound. Cage lies sprawled on his back, one arm flung over his Head,

mouth slack. He looks peaceful. The sight alone makes my teeth grind. He tried to kill me. He left me to drown, broken and

bleeding, and here he is, snoring. I let the wraith bleed through me. The shadows in the corners of the room stretch/long and wide,

crawling up the walls, spilling like black water across the ceiling. My skin prickles, and my vision burns red at the edges. When

look down at my hands, they aren’t entirely mine. My fingers are too long, altogether black with sharp claws. The shimmer of rot

creeps up my wrists, and the air drops ten degrees. Cage twitches in his sleep, his breath hitching. I step closer. The shadows cling

to me; they wrap around me in their carcass–thin embrace. When I whisper, my voice isn’t human. “Caaaage…” His body jolts. Eyes

snapping open to a room drowned in darkness. My shadows writhe over his sheets like tiny demon worms. His breath comes fast as

the shadows bend into antlers above my head, dripping with phantom rot. He scrambles, reaching for the lamp at his bedside, but

the bulb fizzles into smoke the second he touches it, and darkness blooms wider. “Pathetic,” I hiss, the wraith’s rasp curling my

words. “Weak. Just like your father said.” Cage freezes. I taste the fear spike in him, hot and sharp at the back of my throat, and

then I feel it… The power slides back into me, feeding the wraith instead of draining it. His terror fuels it… Endless fuel. I move

closer. The floorboards don’t groan under my steps; they weep. Cage’s eyes widen, whites stark in the dark. “Wh–what the fuck…”

Shadows stretch behind him, fingers curling around his shoulders, pressing him into the mattress. He bucks, but they hold firm.

They look skeletal and cold. His screams muffle as the air thickens, making every breath a fight for survival. “You like pushing strays

off ledges?” My voice splits, half mine, half the beast’s. “Let’s see how you fall.” The shadows beneath his bed drop away into a

chasm of teeth and water, endless and black, an illusion made entirely from my wraith’s darkness. His mattress tilts and his sheets

slither like snakes as he claws at the edges, kicking, sobbing. I laugh, dark and hollow. It’s not my voice, but it doesn’t matter. I

want him to suffer, and right now, he’s having the nightmare of his life, completely unaware that he’s awake, this is real, and I could

kill him with a shadow. Every thrash, every strangled scream pours another wave of terror into me, regenerating the siphoned

wraith magic. What should burn out roars higher, stoked by his panic. I could do this forever. The thought lights me up from the

inside. I could haunt him every night. No rest. No safety. He’d see me in every shadow, hear me in every whisper, live in constant

terror until he broke. I lean close, shadows dripping from me like tar, shadowed antlers scraping the ceiling. My breath fogs cold

against his ear. “Sleep tight, Cage.” The shadows surge once more, dragging him under the chasm, choking him in terror until he

faints. His body goes slack, soaked in sweat, chest heaving like he’s just run for his life. I straighten, flexing my fingers. The wraith’s

power purrs under my skin. Stronger than when I walk in. It’s thriving here. A wicked smile cuts across my face. This is no longer

just vengeance. This is a weapon. And Cage? Cage is going to be my favourite toy.

Cage

I don’t sleep. I can’t sleep. I think I pass out a few times, but every time I close my eyes, the shadows move. Antlers scraping the

ceiling, Teeth in the dark. That voice. Pathetic. Weak. Just like your father said. I’d rip my own ears off before I admit it, but I swear

I still hear it. Even now. The sheets are damp, twisted around my legs like they try to drag me under. My lamp is shattered. The bulb

is black as ash, and there’s no explanation for that. No reason except–No. I’m not thinking about it. I stagger into the washroom,

splash water over my face, and stare into the mirror. Green, bloodshot eyes, skin pale, lips cracked. I look like shit. I bare my teeth,

trying to force the smirk, the mask everyone expects, but it doesn’t stick. The edges tremble, then fall away. “Get it together.” I

growl at my reflection. “You’re Cage. A fucking powerful warlock. Nobody touches you.” Except something did. The memory of the

nightmare slides into my chest and drags me under. I still feel cold claws in my ribs, squeezing I shove out of the room. The

corridor feels too narrow. The shadows are too thick. Every flicker of light makes me twitch. I hate it. I hate myself.

By the time I shove through the doors of the food hall, the sneer is gone. I can’t summon it. People look. They always look Usually

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15:08 Fri, Jul 10

The Shadows That Haunt Me

it’s at my swagger. My smirk. My control. Today, they stare, and I know what they see. Hollow eyes. Twitching hands. A boy who

hasn’t slept. I clench my jaw, force myself to walk. Head up and shoulders back. I pretend nothing’s wrong. I pretend I’m still

untouchable… But every shadow makes my skin crawl, because I know… Somehow, I know. If I fall asleep again tonight, it’ll be

waiting.

“Cage.” My name cracks behind me, low and edged with fire. I spin, pulse lurching, just in time to see the fist before it connects

with my jaw. A hot, white flash rattles my teeth and sends me stumbling into the nearest table. Trays clatter, students gasp, and

pain burns sharp through my skull. I blink, trying to get my bearings. Gold, molten gold eyes lock onto mine with a/rage that

promises no mercy. Evander Drayke. The golden boy. Everyone’s favourite. Heat rolls off him in waves as the room/goes silent. I

wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. Not giving a second thought to the blood that stains my sleeve now. “What the fuck,

Drayke?” I spit, but my voice wavers and cracks. “You pushed her.” His growl carries across the entire hall. “You tried to kill her My

stomach clenches. For one heartbeat, I almost see antlers above his head again and shadows crawling the walls. I force the smirk

back, bloody and crooked. “You’ve got no proof.” I spit back as my jaw throbs. His fist twitches at his side like it wants another go

Comments

Hilary Menzies–Baldwin

2 Comments >

why hasn’t the coach and the boy come forward about Cage? There should have been some kind of punishment, they didn’t even talk to Allison.

7 days ago

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