Cloak of Night (Circle of Shadows #2) - Evelyn Skye Page 0,3

relationships between geminas. So if Daemon was going to be with anyone other than Sora, she was glad it was Fairy. There was something lovely about your favorite people in the world coming together.

Right?

Annoyed at herself, Sora distracted her mind by clearing the debris on the floor to make some space—none of the chairs were sturdy enough to sit in—and cast a simple spell to light a fire next to her. They were indoors, but with the shattered glass ceiling, they might as well be outside.

Then Sora finally had time to think about everything that had happened.

Empress Aki was missing—possibly dead. Prince Gin had sworn loyalty to Zomuri, god of glory, and dedicated the kingdom to the pursuit of the Evermore, a mythological paradise obtained through war and bloodshed. And every single one of the Society’s leaders—no, all the taigas—were either dead or brainwashed and under the prince’s control.

Sora curled up next to her fire. What was she going to do? There really was no one left except her, Daemon, Fairy, and Broomstick. Her earlier confidence faded.

Eventually, though, Sora’s fatigue caught up to her, and she dozed off.

A while later, she startled awake. The fire next to her had burned out. She scrambled to her feet.

“Don’t worry,” Broomstick said from nearby. “I was awake about the time you fell asleep. It’s been quiet.”

“That makes me nervous,” Sora said as she stretched.

“Makes me nervous, too.” Broomstick rubbed his hands over his head. It was normally shaved, but now platinum fuzz was beginning to show.

Sora’s own hair had seen better days as well. It was limp and greasy against her face, and the white-blond roots had started to grow out while the black dye faded on the rest. Her tunic and trousers were in similar shape, mud-spattered and wrinkled, no longer the formidable black uniform taigas were used to wearing. She was pretty sure she smelled a bit like old cheese, too. Ugh.

At least the nap had done her some good. She still didn’t know how the four of them could save a kingdom, but she wasn’t drowning in utter despair anymore. The wheels in her brain creaked, eager to turn and come up with a plan.

But there was also something else. Sora finally understood Empress Aki’s imperial crest, the one with the crowned tiger and the words “Dignity. Benevolence. Loyalty.”

It was about giving yourself to something bigger.

Sora took a deep breath. What lay ahead of them was going to be the most difficult task they had ever faced. She had to be prepared.

“We should start brainstorming our next steps,” Sora said.

“I’ll wake Fairy and Wolf.” Broomstick rose and headed to the back of the hall.

A few seconds later, he yelped.

Fear rose like an alarm in Sora’s chest as she sprinted to help him. Were they being attacked?

When she reached Broomstick, though, it was apparent he didn’t need help. At least, not in the way Sora had imagined.

Fairy was still next to Daemon, but he wasn’t a furry, electric-blue wolf anymore. He was six feet two inches of stark-naked, tautly muscled boy on a bed of tablecloths. The only hint of his wolfishness was his hair, which had lost its black taiga dye in his transformation and was now its natural midnight blue.

Sora’s jaw dropped, her pulse beating traitorously at double time.

“Good gods, you two!” Broomstick said. “I don’t normally care what you do on your own time, but here? When Spirit and I were twenty yards away?”

Both Fairy and Daemon seemed just as shocked as Broomstick and Sora, though. Daemon curled up into a ball and desperately heaped tablecloths on himself to cover up. Fairy had sprung to her feet and leaped away from him, her eyes wide.

“It’s n-not . . . ,” she said. “We didn’t . . .”

“When did I turn back into a human?” Daemon asked, curling more tightly into himself.

The four of them stood frozen for another moment, brains trying to catch up with the scene before them.

Suddenly, Broomstick snorted. “You had no idea he was naked, did you?” he said to Fairy.

“None.” She shook her head to emphasize the point.

The real evidence, though, was the hot rush of Daemon’s embarrassment through his and Sora’s gemina bond. He was absolutely mortified.

“Oh, Daemon.” Sora summoned her cloak from the other side of the room. It flew swiftly to him, and he yanked it to his body. Her poor gemina. He was possibly a demigod, but he was also still the boy she knew, self-conscious and uncertain in his