The ball shimmered around Shyla, lights reflecting off crystal chandeliers, laughter weaving through the crisp night air. Every step she took felt both surreal and deliberate, like she was walking a path drawn for her by fate itself. Nickolas' presence lingered even when he was across the room, magnetic and undeniable.
Shyla's fingers brushed the locket at her chest, Leo's voice steady and unyielding in her mind: "Do not falter. Your mate is Nickolas. Protect your heart. Nothing can sway the bond."
She nodded, forcing a smile at the crowd, but her attention kept drifting to him. Nickolas — calm, composed, powerful. Every glance he gave her seemed to pierce through the veneer of the ball, straight to her pulse.
And yet… there was something else.
A whisper at the edge of her senses, faint and elusive. Her chest tightened, the locket pulsing violently, warning her of a presence it could not detect.
The shadow.
Shyla didn't see him at first. She only felt it — a movement at the corner of her vision, a brush of cold air against her skin, a subtle weight in the room that wasn't Nickolas, wasn't Leo, wasn't any of the others.
Not now, she thought, trying to steady herself. But the feeling persisted, patient and waiting.
Then she saw him — or rather, felt him before she saw him. A shadow at the edge of the balcony, moving fluidly, silently.
Her pulse jumped, fear and recognition twisting in her chest. He had been here before, in fragments of nights and dreams, always distant, always controlled. Now, he was closer. Too close.
Her fingers tightened around the locket. Leo… she thought desperately. But Leo's voice was calm, reassuring, completely unaware. He couldn't see the shadow. Couldn't sense him.
"Shyla…" a voice whispered in her mind, deep, urgent, yet strangely familiar.
She froze. The sound of it sent a shiver down her spine. The shadow had always had a way of appearing unannounced, slipping through the world like a thread of shadow.
I can't… I can't let this distract me, she thought, glancing at Nickolas. He was approaching, smooth and deliberate, eyes locked on hers. Every step he took was measured, certain, and it drew her closer without a word.
"Shy," Nickolas said softly as he reached her, bowing slightly. His voice was calm, commanding, yet gentle — the weight of centuries behind it. "You look… luminous tonight."
Shyla swallowed, cheeks flushing. "Th-thank you, Nickolas. You… you look very… commanding yourself."
He smiled faintly, and for a moment, everything else melted away. Even Valerian's shadow seemed to recede slightly, though she could still feel the pull at the edge of her awareness.
Leo's voice cut through her thoughts again, insistent and protective. "Stay with him. He is your mate. Trust the bond. Nothing else matters."
But the shadow lingered. He stepped closer, unseen by the crowd, unseen by Leo. His presence was a reminder of everything forbidden, everything dangerous. Every visit cost him a piece of himself, but he could not resist — not while she was near, not while her heart stirred for someone other than him.
Shyla felt it — the tension between what was, what could be, and what she had been told was her destiny. The locket throbbed violently, almost in protest, and she clutched it tighter.
Nickolas' hand found hers, and the warmth of his touch sent a shock through her chest. "You're tense," he murmured. "I can feel it."
"I… I'm fine," she stammered, though her mind was racing. Shadow… he's here. Leo can't see him. How? Why now?
Nickolas' gaze softened. "Shyla, whatever it is... they cannot touch what is bound. Trust it, and most importantly trust us."
And for a moment, she wanted to believe him. But the shadow at the edge of her awareness refused to vanish, patient, watching, waiting.
She realized, with a mix of awe and fear, that tonight would not only test the bond with her mate, Nickolas, but also the unseen threads of power, desire, and loyalty that the Shadow had sown long before she had even understood them.
And somewhere deep inside, she knew: this night was only the beginning.
The locket pulsed violently in her hand, as if it, too, sensed the storm to come — and the shadow that even Leo could not chase away.