Page 136 of Interion

Zion seemed lighter as he walked beside me, as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. I figured this must have happened when Serguei told me about the agreement. Now I knew the whole story, but it didn't feel right to bring it up immediately. So I said:

“I hope you really do have a great explanation. I'm eager to hear it.”

Children ran past us, playing and chasing each other. I dodged to avoid getting caught up in their games, and Zion squeezed my hand, pulling me closer. Only then did I realize we'd been holding hands since we arrived. Something warm and pleasant spread through my chest, but I pushed the thought aside before he noticed my sentimentality. Shifting my thoughts, I remembered he'd mentioned the shadows and looked around for them. But there was nothing dancing on his shoulders that night.

“Wait, where are the shadows?” I asked, stopping in my tracks and looking at him from every angle. Zion shrugged.

“I'm keeping them contained.”

“Why?”

He looked away.

“Because yesterday... we did some things that were a bit... intense. So I'm keeping them locked up today to let them calm down.”

A bit intense must be some kind of euphemism for “murdering several people.”

“But is everything okay now?” I asked, looking into his eyes.

“Yes. Everything's okay now.” Zion swallowed hard, and I couldn't tell if he meant himself, the shadows, or all of it.

“Then let them out. Isn't it exhausting to hold them back?”

The first thing we learned in college was that suppressing gifts was harder than just using them. To this day, I still couldn't block my healing—it takes years of control. Ambrose worried a lot about this, because if I ever broke a bone, we'd have trouble containing the regeneration before surgery could begin.

“Are you sure? They usually can't control themselves around you. Doesn't it bother you when the tendrils wrap around your hair?” He seemed to be trying to contain his excitement, and seeing him like that, I dared to stroke his hand with my thumb, tucking my hair behind my ear.

“I love your shadows, Zion. Actually, it feels strange when they're not around.”

His face lit up with a smile, and just like that smile, some shadows broke free, appearing on his shoulders. They rose in serpentine black threads, but as soon as they saw me, they transformed into rounded little beings, watching me expectantly.

“Come,” I called, holding out my hands. They leaped toward me, tumbling and tripping over each other.

“I think they like you more than me.” He pointed to the little ones wrapping around and playing in my hair, making it darker and more flowing. I noticed some people giving us dirty looks, but I just ignored them and kept walking beside him.

“And how could they not? I'm cooler than you.” The shadow playing in my hand seemed to smile.

“Traitors,” he grumbled beside me, and the small tendril climbed up to play on my shoulders. My hair seemed supernatural, billowing and floating as if it had a life of its own, and when they passed too close to my neck, goosebumps prickled across my skin. Zion watched me with intrigue and a hint of surprise at the freedom they had to touch me.

We continued walking along a white stone path; tables were set up here and there, and strings of yellow lights illuminated the way. Our joined hands ignited every flame inside me, and I let them shine.

“How does this whole shadow thing work?” I asked curiously, turning to him. “I know you control their actions—I can see when you hold them back and they react like puppets. But sometimes, like now, I don’t know what to think.”

I couldn’t quite understand this relationship, and the tendrils seemed to adore me that night. Zion turned to face the path ahead, working out his response.

“The theory my tutor and I came up with is that they’re an extension of me, but at the same time, they have a small, primitive consciousness—something more emotional than logical.”

We studied the little ones in my hair. He touched a tendril and it pulled away, continuing to spin around my shoulders. I couldn’t help but laugh when surprise flickered across his face.

“And your feelings influence their actions?” I asked, reaching for my necklace to have something to fidget with and burn off my anxiety, but it wasn’t there. I’d wanted to ask this for a long time but hadn’t had the courage. Zion’s eyes darkened as he answered:

“Yes, they act mainly based on my mood. The stronger my emotions, the less control I have over them.”

I remembered the day in the gym when I’d bumped into him naked. That day, the shadows had touched my body intimately. I pushed the thoughts from my mind as Zion watched me curiously.

“What is it?” I asked, embarrassed by all the attention.

“They’ve always acted based on my feelings and commands. But when I’m near you, they simply ignore me and develop wills of their own. I’m still getting used to it.”