A Court Of Shadow and Blood

☆ Cracked Foundations ☆

Faintly, he felt utter fear thrill along his spine. His skin was singed, and his wounds were bleeding out, but that fear...it wasn’t his.

He heard a screaming inside of him.

And it still wasn’t his.

***

A hand clamped over Eblis’s mouth, crude laughter echoing above as other hands bracketed her arms and legs and held her down. Her ears felt cottoned, and when she looked around, fear striking her to the marrow, she could not discern any of their faces.

She was back in Hybern.

Bone white walls and cavernous rooms echoed around her, bloodied and staked wings stuck beneath her. She struggled for a but a second when she couldn’t recognize what was happening, but as soon as she did, she fell silent and accepting; barely struggling as her night shift was thrown off. Her blood spilled across stone as claws pierced around her shoulders and wrists. She was cold, alone, and utterly afraid as they slipped a cloth into her mouth.

She launched awake, a knife she’d found in the Townhouse gleaming in the moonlight. Wind shifted across her face, and she realized she was not in Hybern. No, the window beside her was full of stars and light, and her room was well decorated with bright, unseemly colors. She choked on her own breath for a second, heart pounding out of her chest.

Eblis was not in Hybern. She was safe. She was home.

But she very nearly screamed as a hand gripped her upper arm. She had barely a moment to note it was wet yet warm, almost sticky against her skin before she scrambled across her bed. Sheets tangled in her legs as she desperately sought to get away, and Eblis found herself tumbling over the other side, the bed then between her and her attacker.

Fae eyes strained in the dark as she searched, only finding a lump of shadows across from her, gathered next to the bed where she’d been sleeping. Her back hit the glass of her windows, and she held the knife before her. Shadows spread forward of their own accord as her fear trembled it’s way to her fingers. They managed to cleave the darkness apart with a strong swipe, exposing the being. 

Yet, Eblis found herself staring at a grim-looking Azriel. 

She rose unsteadily, legs shaking. The male was barely making an expression, his magic leaking out from him and spilling across the room. Not the shadows—no the blue magic his siphon contained seemed to crawl along her skin. In the dark, she noticed that glittering cobalt was a thin layer over Azriel’s skin that, in some places, grew thick and hard to see through. Something dripped from his hand. Her eyes fell to her own arm, where he had gripped her with that hand.

There was a bloody handprint there.

She stuffed the nausea down tight, trying to focus only on the blood and the fact that Azriel teetered slightly. Eblis slowly stepped around the bed, Azriel’s hazel eyes never leaving hers as she did. She didn’t know why she was being so cautious, as if he might spook and disappear in a cloud of smoke. Through the dark, she scanned him. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, any bare skin not covered by armor seeming reddened as if pinched constantly. 

Or burned.

For a moment, Eblis and Azriel merely stared at the other, as if waiting for one to move.

Eblis was already sweating, stomach turning. She took yet another deep breath, and finally put a hand on Azriel. The Shadowsinger only sluggishly watched the movement, the hand on his shoulder almost as pale and shivering as he was.

He swayed.

With a small yelp, Eblis gripped his arm and threw it over her shoulder. "Cerridwen! Nuala!" she shouted, knees buckling beneath Azriel's weight and touch. Her head swam.