Page 17 of Shackled By Shadows

Oberon steps from them, his silhouette almost blending with the dimming light. I put the book down, turning to face him. “It’s a little late for a lesson.” My voice is steady, though I can’t hide the suspicion tightening in my chest.

“No lesson tonight,” Oberon says, his voice low, brushing against the air between us.

My heart stutters.

He reaches into his cloak and pulls out a small wooden box, elegant, intricate carvings adorn its surface, reminiscent of the tattoos I have seen on his skin. A silver latch gleams at the front. He extends it toward me.

Confusion twists in my chest as I open the box. Inside is a stunning necklace: a delicate silver chain with a pendant shaped like a swirling vortex, a stone at its center, dark, iridescent, unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. It is more stunning than anything I have ever owned, a cruel reminder of the luxuries I have lost.

“What is this?” I ask, suspicion sharpening my tone.

Oberon’s eyes meet mine, his face blank. “Would you join me for a walk?”

My mind races. My pulse thunders. A walk? Outside? The freedom I have craved for so long, but at what cost?

“So, I am a pet now?” I spit, bitterness curling in my chest. “Is this some magic-infused collar to keep me tethered?”

His eyes remain unflinching, but there is something in his stillness that makes my skin prickle. When he speaks, his tone is calm, almost casual.

“It’s a nice evening for a walk,” he says softly, his voice low, almost intimate, breaking the silence that hangs between us like a heavy fog. His gaze lingers on me, assessing, waiting for my reaction. He takes a step closer, his presence seems to fill the space, pressing against me like an unspoken promise. “But it’s your choice.”

His eyes flick to my lips, just for a heartbeat. My fingers tremble as they hover above the necklace. “I won’t force you, Lyra.” His voice is soft, offering no clues to what he is feeling. “If you prefer, I will leave,” he adds. His words send a shiver down my spine.

“But I promise it will be more interesting than this cabin.”

Torn. Utterly torn. The idea of stepping outside even for a moment is an allure I can’t shake: the wind, the grass, the open sky, even the thought makes my chest ache with longing. But the necklace? The collar? Is that how they break me?

Does it matter?

I fight with myself, torn between the burning desire to feel the world again and the disgust curling in my gut at the thought of putting it on.

I glance at him, frustration clawing at my throat, but I can’t ignore the pull of the world outside. With a heavy sigh, I reach for the necklace, my hands trembling.

“Fine,” I say finally, my voice low, barely a whisper.

I pick up the necklace, fumbling with the clasp, my hands shaking.

Oberon steps toward me, and my body stiffens at the proximity. I can smell him, cold air, cedarwood, and something else, something sharp.

“Here, let me help you,” he says, and his tone is almost . . . gentle.

“I don’t need your help,” I snap, the words strained, ragged with the weight of defeat. My fingers fumble with the clasp again, and before I can stop myself, the necklace is on.

I move toward the door, anger rising in my chest. Oberon stands by the entrance, his hand stretching out toward me, palm up, a smug grin playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Really?” I arch a brow, folding my arms.

He smirks, eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, I didn’t realize the idea of touching me was so repulsive.” When he doesn’t get a reaction from me, his eyes darken before adding, “It’s the only way through the wards.”

My glare could set the whole door ablaze, but I snatch his hand anyway. His skin is rough, warm, and annoyingly reassuring.

“Admit it, you’ve been dying for an excuse to hold my hand,” he teases, stepping aside to let me pass.

“In your dreams,” I shoot back, but my heartbeat betrays me as I cross the threshold.

“Every. Single. Night.”

His tone is playful, but there is something else lurking underneath. The pleasure dancing in his eyes makes my toes curl.