Chapter 16

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Lyric

Adjusting my sunglasses as we walked, I worked up the nerve to do what I’d neglected to do last night.

“Um, thank you, for the things. The presents, I mean. I never thanked you. So thank you.”

Oh, you’re a smooth one this morning, Lyric.

“You’re welcome, Angel,” Draven replied, his eyes alight, enjoying my discomfort.

Our little group was headed to one of the training areas to test my strength and aptitudes. Phalen had told me they knew I was the best fighter my father had to offer, aside from Gregor, and this was merely to gage how the Otherland was affecting me.

“Did you eat the chocolates?” Phalen chimed in hopefully. “Those were from me.”

“Uh, not yet.”

I hadn’t had it in me to open the box before I went to bed. I’d handled the pretty package as carefully as I would a snake, closing it in a drawer before it could make me feel anything other than wary.

Phalen’s face fell and I quickly added, “I ate too much cake, so I was stuffed. I promise to try them today.” Yeah, that’s why.

My reply seemed to mollify him a bit. How did someone so touchy get to be in charge of the Shadow Army?

“Draven said you slept in the clothing I left. I’m glad everything fit,” Talia commented from behind, clearly pleased with herself.

“How would Draven know what I slept in?”

“I know everything,” he bragged.

Clearly, the male didn’t understand boundaries. I thought I’d helped him figure them out when I yelled at him for barging in on my shower for the second time. This morning, he’d entered simply to inform me breakfast had arrived.

I’d obviously thought wrong.

We’d been walking away from the fortress for about ten minutes when we rounded the corner of what appeared to be a good-sized storage barn. A large group of males was waiting in a spacious clearing. Dozens of heads swung my way and tiny niggles pinched at my skin.

Ignoring the onlookers, I studied the area. There were a few other buildings nearby, all in the same nondescript style.

They sat in large clearings, surrounded by clusters of trees. The structures were nothing more than giant wooden boxes with wrap-around decking on multiple floors. Simple, yet functional.

“Those are the males’ barracks,” Phalen supplied.

“Are there no females in the army?”

“There are. Their barracks are on the other side of the fortress. Draven ordered them to go out into the Shadowlands today for some recon.”

“All of them?”

“Only the ones stationed here. They went out with their training teams, in different directions. They won’t be back until dark. The rest of the army, both male and female, is spread around the Shadowlands in strategic locations, most of them guarding the borders.”

“Then I’m going to spar with males only?”

“Problem?” Draven cut in.

His tone and his posture instantly morphed into something else, something rigid and uncompromising. How exhausting it must have been to switch back and forth.

“No. It’s just like home. Gregor always said I was too dangerous to pair with most of his soldiers and he never let me train with the females.”

Someone snickered. My head snapped towards the source. The chipper male murmured something behind his hand. I couldn’t hear it, but the ensuing low laughter told me enough.

The jokester was still wearing a smile when we made eye contact. His comrades-in-arms quickly looked away. I had little tolerance for chickenshits in my world. I saw no point in bothering to inspect them with my magic. I’d feel them out with my fists, instead.

I committed to memory the faces of each male in that small group. There were four, which was four too many looking way too full of themselves. Taking someone down a peg would be the perfect start to my day. I’d done it a thousand times before with Gabrian’s soldiers.

I cracked my knuckles, getting the juices going. I’d woken up feeling more than refreshed. I could already sense some of the Otherland’s effects. Primarily, the constant hum of energies under my skin. I wasn’t She-Hulk, but I was definitely feeling stronger.

Time to test it.

“Whoa,” Phalen cautioned, grabbing my elbow when I took a step towards the group. “What are you doing?”

“Introducing myself,” I smiled sweetly.

“Your hand’s on a dagger, Lyric.”

“It’s how I prefer to shake hands.”

Talia snorted. I swear I liked that female more and more.

Draven stepped in front of me, blocking my view of his soldiers. “I expect two things from you today.”

“Only two?” I sniffed, trying to look around his big frame at my new targets.

He ignored my sarcasm, putting his hands on my biceps to hold me in place. He didn’t speak until I gave him my full attention.

“One, don’t get hurt too badly. We’re tracking tomorrow and I need you intact.”

“Done.” I was smaller and, as Gregor informed me, more agile than most Shadows. I could likely outmaneuver them and get out of the way before any damage was done—assuming they weren’t in Shadow form.

“Two, don’t kill any of these males.”

“Not sure I can promise you that, Chief, but I’ll do my best.”

“I’m serious, Lyric.”

I wanted to argue but knew better than to push too far in front of this audience. I also got hung up on the fact Draven believed I was capable of taking down a Shadow. I’d never fought one, but I was a quick study. Learn or die and all that.

“Fine. No killing.”

I got the distinct impression Draven didn’t believe me. It might be a good time to confess I’d never killed anyone before, but I wouldn’t say it aloud. Not with the peanut gallery within earshot.

“Would you like me to say something to them?” he asked quietly, for my ears only.

His offensive offer demanded a rebuttal. “Absolutely not. I can handle my own shit, thank you very much.” I kept my hiss at a low level.

Draven flashed me an amused look. Then he bent lower and whispered, “That’s my girl.”

His girl. Damn if that didn’t just make me feel all sorts of gooey inside.

As Draven stepped away and instructed Phalen to get things going, I surveyed the group where I’d heard the laughter. It was easy to discern which one needed a spanking the most. He was the one still smiling.

Twenty minutes later, after a short introduction from Phalen, we were standing around watching one another take turns on the archery field. Apparently, only fifty members of the army had been asked to stick around for target practice.

The rest were out and about doing their jobs or on training missions. A large portion were stationed around the Shadowlands and only came to the fortress periodically.

I’d yet to take a turn with a bow. Phalen had suggested I first try going without the sunglasses for a while. At the moment, I was still waiting for my eyes to stop watering. Thankfully, it was much better than yesterday.

Gods, I’d only arrived yesterday. It felt like I’d been here for a month, like I’d known Draven even longer. I was constantly aware of his location out here, unconsciously seeking his familiar power with my own.

Feeling him settled something inside me. I wasn’t scared, but I was definitely on guard in the midst of so many strangers. Looking around at the Shadows, I wondered how I would feel once I’d actually been in the Otherland for an extended period of time, if I’d always feel like an outsider.

Someone hit a bullseye. Masculine voices cheered. Not bad. Not dead center, but not bad.

I heard Draven’s chuckle from behind me and I reinforced the barrier protecting what was in my head. Keeping it up would take some getting used to.

Creating the shield had been easy enough. Maintaining it was something I still had to learn. Thankfully, once I learned, I would be good to go. I studied the faces around me, curious what they were thinking.

I felt tiny in this sea of tall silver-haired males. My face was in line with many of their chests—chests whose dri-fit training shirts bore the mark of a silver dragon inside a circle.

Seriously, where were the medieval ensembles I’d expected? It was almost like being at a high school’s team practice or some shit.

I walked off to the side, away from the crowd, to stand next to Phalen. He wasn’t dressed the exact same as his army. He did have on the identical dark pants and boots. His upper half, however, was covered in what could be a pop culture cotton tee in Earth Realm.

His fondness for tees was highly amusing. This one was neon yellow and said, SHADOWS DO IT BETTER across the front in big black script.

“What’s up with the shirts?” I asked him.

Phalen looked down at his shirt and grinned. “Like it, do you? I special order all mine.”

“Not what I was asking, but I’ll bite. From where do you special order tee shirts in the Shadowlands?”

“The Internet, of course. We have many Shadows stationed in homes in Earth Realm that can order and get things for us. Gabrian even allows deliveries to come through him. Obviously, we need access for them to come through the crossing. Luckily, he understands creature comforts.”

“Hmm. Yes, he’s a real understanding dude.”

“What were you really asking?”

Four distractions came into my field of vision. Four males I planned to challenge when we got to the grappling portion of our day. I think I heard one call my most special new friend by the name of Lyson. He was getting challenged first.

“Lyric?”

I looked at Phalen, remembering he’d asked me something. “Oh, about the dragon symbol on their shirts. It’s not on the Shadow Lord’s standard.” I didn’t mention it was also on my flask and my katanas.

“That’s because the Shadow Lord’s standard is generic, it belongs to anyone who holds the title.”

“So, this symbol is specific to Draven?”

“Yes. It followed him out of the village, where he grew up. They called him the Argentum Draco. The Silver Dragon. Started when he was a youngling.”

“What, he was a little monster?” I chortled.

Phalen’s face grew serious. “No. He burned down the home of the male who killed his father, the male who’d taken Draven’s sire down from behind like a coward. When no one in the village would do anything about the crime, Draven felt compelled to take things into his own hands. He set a fire he knew couldn’t be put out. Draven remained inside, pinning the male to the floor so he couldn’t escape. He held that murdering bastard down for hours, until the worst of the flames had melted his heart.”

“Damn,” I exhaled. I’d known Draven’s father, Daryus, had been killed. I didn’t know the details, or that he’d been avenged in such a brutal way.

“When Draven emerged from the flames,” Phalen continued, “without so much as a mark of soot, rumors started he was impervious to fire. Like a dragon. No one accepted the obvious answer, that he’d ghosted and remained in that form the whole time.”

The other male must have been injured, unable to ghost to save his sorry ass. Good.

“Why didn’t anyone believe it?”

“Because Draven was nine years old.”

And boom went the dynamite. My mouth dropped open and I quickly snapped it shut.

“Shadows aren’t usually able to take on their Shadow form until they reach adulthood,” Phalen added. “I can only assume that Draven had managed it because of his severe emotional state. His mother had passed not a day after Daryus. They’d been soul bonded and, well, some mates just don’t have the will to outlive the other.”

Soul bonding typically only occurred between Others whose souls chose the bond, deciding to tie lifeforces together. Many mated and lived happily without fusing spirits, but if the soul decided it wanted to merge with another, there wasn’t much that could be done to stop it.

“What happened afterwards?”

“The death of Rorik was celebrated. He’d been a plague to those Shadows, abusing his position as the town’s enforcer for years. Since Draven and I were as close as brothers, it was decided he would come live with me and my parents. His extended family was nearby so he still had access to them. Familial support is important, you know.”

No, I didn’t know, but I didn’t want to make the mood even heavier.

“And the symbol?” I pointed to the nearest soldier.

“Oh, some random artist commemorated the event by creating that emblem. Obviously, the silver dragon is Draven. The circle is a ring of smoke.”

I looked over my shoulder at the Lord of Shadows, at how he held and moved his frame, with self-contained poise and precision. His demeanor was different than when we were alone. The second we’d reached this area, I had felt the shift in him, almost tangible in its radical swing.

All playfulness was gone, leaving an unyielding soldier in its wake. The Shadows gave him a wide berth.

Draven kept himself separate from his army. Among them, but not with them. His hardened grey eyes took in everything.

I wondered what they looked like before his father, and then his mother, had been taken from him. Gregor once told me the murder had been over a wager or something stupid like that.

My heart hurt for what Draven had lost, for the level of anguish the child would have had to feel to own the task someone else, someone much older, should have borne.

“No,” I corrected. “The circle, it’s a zero. Ground zero. It marks the day a child was forced to become a dragon.”

Phalen nodded respectively. “That, too, my dear. That, too.”

He patted my shoulder. “Come on. Your eyes aren’t watering as badly as before.”

We walked over to the steel rack housing a variety of bows. I hadn’t been allowed to bring mine, so I was forced to use one of these. It felt like I was cheating on Bowen, the name I’d given the sexy little number.

Oh, the fun we had together.

I picked up a couple and found one I liked. There were no quivers to strap on. The arrows were in stationary containers behind the archers currently shooting.

I waited my turn in the line furthest to the right. I kept away from the tree line side, not trusting what might be lurking nearby. I refused to react like a crazy person if some organism I’d never seen before crawled out of the foliage.

This position gave me a good view of the buildings. It was hard to imagine life here, living communally outside the fortress. I wondered how many were allowed to reside inside the structure.

“Right there. On the corner, three windows up. I put it by the window so it could be seen. Jealous?” a snotty voice jeered from my left.

I wasn’t surprised it was the same jerkoff who’d laughed at me earlier. Unable to help it, I looked over to where he was instructing his friend. A little over 600 yards away. The targets were only about 200. Short by my standards, but I was only supposed to be testing to make sure I was in top form.

Despite having the superior vision of a being who was Other, it wasn’t easy to see what was in the window. The reddish-pink sunlight reflected off what looked like water.

“What are we looking at?” I asked casually.

The male’s head swung in my direction. I was still looking off into the distance, but I could feel his examination of my profile. My breasts. My ass. Both of which I decided to stick out just to be a flirtatious biatch.

“My bunkmate brought me a betta fish from Earth Realm. Cost me a ton of vuhron.”

So not what I was expecting. In fact, it was one of the stupidest things I’d ever heard boasted. This male had obviously never been to Earth Realm if he thought a betta was some sort of prized possession.

Holding in my laughter might have been the hardest thing I’d ever had to do. He was gloating over a fish that every ten-year-old human had in their bedroom? And he’d paid out the nose for it?

Vuhron was the Otherland’s currency. A ton of it would equate to a lot of U.S. dollars.

“How many vuhron, exactly?” I asked, doing my best to keep my voice even.

Warm energies were closing in from my other side. Familiar warm energies. If Draven interfered, I’d make him regret it. I let my mental shield thin, for good measure. The energies didn’t ease, but I could tell he’d stopped coming towards me.

“200,” the male announced with pride.

I snorted, no longer able to pretend. “That’s like, what, 500 American dollars?”

“Roughly,” the douchebag’s friend replied.

“Just so you know, you can buy a betta in any pet store in Earth Realm for under ten. Might want to consult with your bunkmate about exchange rates.”

Betta-Buddy growled and I shifted, ready for an attack. I hadn’t tested my strength against any Shadows yet. Maybe I was getting a little ahead of myself by baiting him.

He didn’t notice it was his turn at target practice. He was too busy glowering at me. My grip adjusted on the bow. I didn’t have any arrows, but I could and would beat him over the head with it.

“It’s your turn, Lamerson,” I pointed out.

“My name is Lyson.”

“If you say so.”

Lyson’s face was turning a dark shade of angry. His friend nudged him forward and he finally got with the program, grumbling a bunch of insults about me under his breath.

Those didn’t bother me. Much. It wasn’t until words about the harlot proving her only worth would be found on her back flew out of his pie hole, something in me snapped.

I slid up to my spot, snagging an arrow. I watched Lyson shoot twice, both arrows landing just outside the center circle. When he nocked his third, he shot me a dirty look and released. Bullseye.

“Nice shot,” I acknowledged, evaluating where to hit him hardest.

“I know.”

Oh, Snotty McSnotterson. Now you have to pay.

As I took my stance, the moods of those around me transformed. The demons stopped shooting. All eyes were on me. I took aim at the target, knowing it was an effortless shot, one I could do with my eyes closed. Easy peasy.

I preferred doing things the hard way.

I pulled back the string, calculating the wind and distance. At the last second, I jerked thirty degrees to the right and twenty degrees up.

On my next exhale, I let that fucker fly.

Gasps and murmurs started the second I let go. Lamerson laughed.

“She missed the entire—”

CRACK!

“What’d she hit?” someone asked from the other side of the range.

Someone started hooting. “She hit Lyson’s fish tank!”

More laughter erupted.

Turning to face Lyson, I lifted my watchless wrist, checking the pretend time somewhat dramatically. “I’m guessing you have about eight minutes before that fish dies. Possibly five with the heat and lack of humidity in the air. You might want to run fast and get it into some fresh water.”

Lyson’s mouth was working, but no words were coming out. He gave himself a little shake.

“That dorm is 600 yards away,” he choked out.

“More like 610, but who’s counting?”

Lyson just stood there, gaping at me. So did all the others. There had to be Shadow archers around here worth their salt. We were supernatural, for fuck’s sakes. Even Gabrian had henchmen who could reach 600 yards with impeccable accuracy. Not many, but still.

Nobody moved. The crowd was silent and Fish Guy was still staring with his mouth open.

Shit. Now I was starting to feel like a freakshow. A mean one. Unfortunately, I also started to feel bad for Lyson and his betta, picturing it helpless on the floor of his room. It didn’t ask to be murdered today.

Damn you, conscience!

“Go! Don’t let that fish die, Lamerson!”

He shook himself again and took off, sprinting with supernatural speed to the little betta fish he’d paid way too much for. Poor fish. I was such a bitch. Unless it was a mistake I’d already made, it seemed I was incapable of figuring out the consequences of my actions prior to completing them.

It was in this moment of self-loathing over my impetuous behavior, I felt the warm stream of liquid land on my shoulder, splattering my face before I could jump away.

This time the laughter was an explosion. The howls and guffaws grated on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

Draven snagged the little offender just as he appeared, squirming and smiling like a happy little pup. I pointed an angry finger at the animal, lowering it when Draven eyed me in warning.

“I guess I’ll just go change into something less piss-soaked,” I stated between clenched teeth, heading back to the fortress for cleanup.

“Remember, it’s a sign of good luck!” Talia shouted merrily at my back.

I flipped her the bird and she cackled gayly.

Fucking. Twilight. Zone.