Page 25 of Fallen Nocturne

The little stone dragon chooses that moment to shift against my thigh.

I cover it with my hand.

The masked man slowly raises his eyes to mine. “I suppose the imperial seal grew legs and climbed into your pocket by itself.”

“That.” I touch the lump in my dress and my voice comes out high and thin. “This is not what it looks like.”

His thumb moves once against my waist, slow and almost absentminded. “Do you know what we do to thieves in this empire?”

There is no anger in his voice, but a nervous chill still slips through me. I do not know what consequence he has in mind. His calmness only makes the possibilities worse.

The throne room changes around us. One by one, the ghostly courtiers fade. Their laughter dies first, followed by the music, until the final note dissolves into silence.

I step away from him. His hand falls from my waist, but his eyes remain fixed on me as I retreat another pace. The empty throne room feels far larger without the dancers surrounding us.

The right thing to do is to give it back. I should pull the dragon seal from my dress, place it in his hands, then apologize and ask him to forgive me.

But it looks like Coral. I want to keep it.

"I'm sorry," I say.

I spin on my heel and I sprint for the doors. My bare feet slap against the marble and the sound echoes through the empty hall.

Behind me, I hear him laugh.

"Oh, little fawn,” he calls after me. "You shouldn't have done that."

I run faster.

The corridor branches ahead. I take the left passage without thinking and nearly collide with the stone wall waiting at its end. A dead end. I turn sharply and race back the way I came, but the hallway has changed. It is darker now, the moonlight reduced to narrow silver strips across the floor.

My lungs burn and my heart hammers against my ribs. I force myself to move quietly, slipping between pillars and through open doorways in the hope that my old gift will hide me. It should. No one ever hears me when I do not wish to be heard.

The shadows hear me.

They shift along the walls like living vines, lengthening whenever I pass and curling toward my ankles. One brushes the back of my foot. I stumble away from it, fear sharpening every breath.

“You are going the wrong way.” The masked man’s voice drifts from somewhere above.

“I do not remember asking,” I reply to the darkness. I gather my nightdress in one hand and choose the opposite corridor.

A grand staircase spirals downward. I take the steps two at a time, one hand on the railing. The shadows pour down after me like ink spilling from an overturned well.

Behind me, his footsteps remain unhurried.

“You can return it,” his voice echoes from everywhere and nowhere. “And I’ll let you go unharmed.”

I clutch the seal tighter and keep running.

The staircase empties into the library I passed earlier. Shelves rise three stories around me, forming narrow aisles beneath the domed ceiling. I dart between them, hoping the countless rows will conceal me.

A shadow peels itself from the wall ahead and stretches across the aisle, closing the path like a hand around a trapped mouse. I stop so abruptly that my feet slide across the polished floor. Another shadow gathers behind me. They spill from every archway now, slithering over the marble and reaching for my feet.

One coils around my ankle.

I choke on a scream as it yanks my leg from beneath me. My hands strike the floor, but before I can rise, more tendrils wind around my calves and waist. They feel cold as smoke yet strong enough to drag me backward.

I twist and kick, clawing uselessly at the darkness. Landon commands a shadow lynx, but I have never known shadow magic could be shaped like these vines. They tighten whenever I struggle, binding me.