With the sound of bone breaking, the shape slipped away from the stone.
It was released, not born. Skin shimmering like smoke clinging to muscle, shoulders too wide, limbs bent incorrectly. I felt its gaze pierce right through me even though there was only a hollow mask of light where a face should have been.
With their throats rumbling and their hackles bristling, all the wolves in the chamber instinctively lowered. Thorn's growl was low and deadly, but it hesitated for half a heartbeat.
The thing did not approach them. It came over to me.
Its voice, not spoken but pressed straight into my skull, caused the cavern to tremble.
“Little one,” it crooned, the sound like silk dragged over broken glass. “You’ve grown well. The shadows wear you as they should.”
My lungs seized. My shadows
