Page 8 of Cut of the Dark Elf's Blade

I can see my brother, moving his things out of the manor we are supposed to share and moving back into his childhood bedroom.

I can see the zagfers shaking in their boots.

That is when I see her. I realize then that I have made my way outdoors without even noticing.

“That is not a zagfer.”

Human. Pretty. Very pretty. Lithe.

I step into the shadows when she turns. I do not need her to see me yet.

She doesn’t look afraid.

She clearly doesn’t know that I am here. She probably doesn’t even know who I am, because she certainly wasn’t here the last time I came home.

I don’t think I’ll be going back to the city. Not with a plaything like that to have fun with.

My plaything.

4

NEVEAH

“Hello?”

I jerk upright, my gaze scouring the darkness as my eyes fight to adjust to the dimness. My skin crawls as if someone is watching me, but there’s no one in the room. Still, I can’t shake the feeling.

Echo snores next to me, the little iypinnit pressed into my side and hogging my bed, per usual. Heat radiates off her thick, burnt red coat, her elongated face highlighted in a patch of white. I huff and flick one of her pointed ears, but she doesn’t even notice.

I’m coated in a sheen of sweat, and I’m starting to think that the little creature’s heat is what pulled me from my slumber. That and my sudden parchedness.

Throwing the blankets back, Echo leaps up on all fours, her thick tail switching behind her and her hackles raising as her eyes scan the room.

“Now you wake up?” I grumble as I push off the edge of the bed, wincing as the cold floor stings my bare feet.

A low growl blooms in Echo’s throat, and I turn toward her, cocking an eyebrow. She’s stopped me midway to the door to my room, and her brown eyes are boring into me as she snarls, her teeth exposed.

Except I don’t think she’s snarling at me.

“What?” I throw my arms out and try to ignore how absurd it is that I’m talking to the little feline that has suddenly turned into my guard. “What is it?”

I spin around, looking for anything amiss, but I don’t see anything. Still, my nerves coil tight in my stomach and I click my tongue, calling Echo to me.

“I’m just getting water,” I say in a soothing voice, but it’s not entirely for her benefit. My pounding heart doesn’t listen, either.

Slowly, I creak the door open, peeking out as if someone is going to be waiting out there. Echo’s soft growls continue even though I don’t see anyone.

“Echo,” I murmur. “I don’t think anyone is here.”

As I move out of my room, though, I notice that the air feels different. I wonder if this is what Echo is picking up on.

I try to shake off the electric feeling coasting along my skin, making my hairs raise. I keep peeking over my shoulder, trying to figure out why the halls are so quiet. Even at this time of night, the manor doesn’t usually feel so desolate.

It’s as if the wind is afraid to move right now, and I wonder what has scared it away.

I glance down at Echo, who has stopped growling. She’s crouched low, the whiskers around her pointed nose vibrating as she sniffs the air. I know this stance. She’s prowling, like there’s prey nearby.

My heart rate kicks up, and I’m not sure why. As my eyes scour the dimly lit halls, I try to spot a mouse or bug that she could have her eye on. But when I see none, my hands only grow clammy.