Page 35 of Shackled By Shadows

“Wait—” I hold up a hand. “You expect me to follow you blindly without so much as an explanation?”

Ash shrugs, already heading for the door.

“Well, you did agree to Oberon’s terms. Time to keep up, sunshine.”

“You’re part of the team now.”

“Under conditions,” I remind him.

“Oh, right.” Ash grins over his shoulder. “Stay close. Don’t wander. Try not to die. Got it. But if you’re looking for bonus conditions, how about this—” He winks. “No stabbing Oberon unless I’m there to see it.”

I groan. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, so charming,” Ash quips, throwing his hands behind his head again. “Now, come on, Lyra. Adventure awaits.”

Oberon pauses by the door, glancing back at me with that same infuriating smirk. “Six months or not, you’ll keep up. I’m sure of it.”

I grab the box, the only thing in the cabin worth taking. The necklace lay inside, its chain glinting faintly. From my pocket, I retrieve the pendant, unclasp the chain, and slide the pendant beside the small trinket already hanging there. The weight of both charms feels oddly comforting. Without hesitation, I slip the necklace around my neck, tuck it beneath my blouse where it lies cool against my skin, and shove the empty box into my pocket.

A surge of relief washes over me as I follow the males outside. A part of me feared some hidden ward would drag me back inside, a trick, a trap. I didn’t truly believe it, but the thought still lingered.

We step into the clearing nestled atop the mountain. Dense forest surrounds us on all sides, making it impossible to see beyond the tree line.

No horses. No beasts. No carriages. Just the endless rustle of leaves and open sky above.

Oberon always materializes here from nothing, shadows curling around him like living things. Ash . . . well, Ash is a mystery. I don’t know how he usually gets here. He has to have some mode of transportation, but standing here now, with nothing but trees and rock, makes me wonder.

I look between the two. “How the hell do we leave?” Sarcasm drips from my words as I add, “What’s the plan, Oberon turns us all into shadows and spirits us away?”

Ash grins widely, lifting a hand with a smooth, circular motion. “Oh, ye of little imagination.”

Before him, the world distorts, the air shimmers, the sky, grass, and clouds twist together in a spiraling vortex, and the scene melts into a mesmerizing swirl of deep greens and blacks, twinkling lights dancing within like distant stars.

I take a step back. My heart pounds. “What the actual—?” I mutter.

Did they drug me?

Oberon stands still, unreadable as ever. Like he has seen this a hundred times, his calm only unsettles me further.

Ash’s grin deepens, enjoying every flicker of disbelief on my face. “This, my dear Lyra, is a wormhole.”

I blink at him. “What in the fuck is a wormhole?”

At that, Oberon, cold, controlled Oberon, actually chuckles, a low sound, almost imperceptible, but there, with the smallest crack in his perfect mask.

Ash leans closer, eyes gleaming with amusement. The swirling vortex whips wind around us, tugging at my hair and loose clothing.

“He controls gravity,” Oberon says simply, as if that explains anything.

My eyes widen in awe. “Gravity? How is that even possible?”

Ash spreads his arms wide, bowing dramatically. “What can I say? I’m pretty remarkable.”

Despite myself, I laugh, short and incredulous. “Seriously. How?”

Ash taps his chin thoughtfully. “Think of it like this: instead of spending days walking from point A to point B, we . . . hmm.” He snaps his fingers. “We jump there. One quick jump.”

“B—but” I stammer. “J—jump? Through that?” I gesture wildly at the swirling mass.