A sudden surge of power jolted Eris awake. It was searing his heart and blinding his mind’s eyes with a powerful white light. Something that made the shadows quiver. Nuri’s Shadow especially.

Alarms rang out in his head; this power was a threat. Suddenly, he saw himself forging a sword alongside Azelia. He shook the vision with a curse from his mind. Whatever this power was, whatever this light, it was a threat to him.

Climbing out of bed, careful not to wake Nivette, he sought out the source of the power with his mind’s eye. But as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, inciting another curse. He sought out Negal in the Shadow Realm of Seraphim. She sat there reading in the obscurely lit library.

“I was expecting you, Eris,” she said, keeping her eyes on the page.

“What was that surge of power?”

“So you felt it too. Interesting.” She flipped the page absentmindedly.

“It can kill us, can’t it?” Negal finally looked up, eying him suspiciously. Gently, she shut the book, studying him while she twirled her black wedding band around her finger thoughtfully.

“Shadowlings, yes. But you’re a Vampyre Eris; it can’t harm you any more than you can harm it. Whatever this is, it is your equal. Darkness and light.”

“Why do I feel like it can kill me then?”

Negal stood up, tossing the book onto her seat. Her eyes searched his face for something he didn’t know. “Because of your gift, Eris, and much, much more. If only you weren’t cut off.”

“Cut off from what?”

Negal, with a look akin to sadness and anger, looked into his eyes. “Yourself and Nuri.” Negal vanished, leaving Eris snarling. Nuri. That name meant nothing to him. The visions meant nothing to him. Nothing meant anything to him. Nothing except…