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Scorned by Shadows (Kissed by Shadows Series, Book 4)
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Scorned By Shadows (Kissed By Shadows, Book 4)
Lola StVil
Book 1: The Girl
Book 2: The Fallout
Book 3: The Turn
Book 4: The Triplex
Book 5, Part 1: The Quo
Book 5, Part 2: The Lyris
Book 6, Part 1: The Shoma
Book 6, Part 2: The Nycren
Book 1: Blue Rose
Book 2: The Last Akon
Book 3: Fall of the Chosen
Book 4: When Angels Break
Book 5: Ways of the Wicked
Book 6: Rise of the Alago
Book 7: Rage of Angels
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Copyright © 2018 by Lola StVil
All rights reserved.
Formatting by Dallas Hodge, Everything But The Book
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
I can't tell you exactly how it will end, but I can tell you this when it begins,
it will feel like rain and when it ends it'll feel like fire.
And the truth is we're all beautifully mad enough to believe
that maybe love was meant to save us from ourselves…
— RM Drake
I tap lightly on Atlas’s door.
“Just go away,” she says in a muffled voice.
“It’s me,” I say.
“Whatever,” she grunts.
I take that to mean I can go in. I push open the door and step into the darkened room. Atlas is lying underneath her duvet. Her pale face stands out against the dark covers. She doesn’t open her eyes as I go in.
“I want to be alone,” she says.
“Atlas…” I start.
She does open her eyes then, and beneath the dark depression there, I see anger.
“Please don’t make this a fight, Kane. I just want to be alone for one night, okay? I need some time to process my feelings before we lay Remy to rest tomorrow. That’s all.”
“But—”
“No buts. Don’t make this about you,” she snaps.
But it is about me. It’s killing me that I can’t pull her out of her funk and chase the darkness away from her like she did for me.
“Fine. I’ll just go.” I snap, my pain coming out as anger at her.
She doesn’t even seem to notice that I’m angry.
“Yes,” she says.
I turn to leave and she calls me back. I turn back to her and wait for her to tell me she’s sorry and that she needs me now more than ever. Isn’t that what people say? When someone pushes you away, they need you more than ever.
“Tomorrow will be better,” she says cryptically.
She turns onto her side and faces the wall. I sigh and pull the door closed a little too loud. As I step back into the hallway, a door closes. Someone has been eavesdropping on us, but I get it. They’re all as worried about Atlas as I am.
I debate lying down on the couch in the living room so I’m here if Atlas needs me, but I keep walking. She’s made it quite clear I’m not welcome here tonight.
I just hope she’s right and tomorrow is better, because if Atlas can’t shake off this pall that’s seized her, then Quinn has lost the battle but won the war.
It’s been a couple of days since we got the Staff of Lost Souls and Quinn was obliterated, her body evaporating into a cloud of black ashes that was sucked into the staff. Somehow, after everything Quinn did to us, Atlas still feels guilty that she ended up dying at her hand. I guess that’s a testament to Atlas’s character. She has a deep moral compass that allows her to feel compassion for even the darkest souls. Personally, I say fuck Quinn. She got exactly what she deserved, and the only thing I hate about her being dead is how much it upset Atlas.
I suppose, in a way, it’s good that Atlas can see the light in such dark places or she never would have come near me. But it will also be her undoing. It makes her carry this guilt that eats at her: guilt about Remy, guilt about Quinn. It doesn’t matter how many times I tell her what happened to Remy wasn’t her fault; she still blames herself for both deaths.
I mean no one was more pissed off than I was when I learned Atlas and Regal kissed, but there’s a normal reaction to that stuff, a Kane reaction to that stuff, and then there’s what Quinn did.
She thought Quinn was normal. She was wrong. We were all wrong, and now Quinn is gone, and Atlas still believes that somehow, she could have found a way to save Quinn, and her death weighs heavily on Atlas’s conscience. I think she was beyond saving. She didn’t just accept the role of Keysu—she relished it. She didn’t care about the cause or about Arken’s quest; she just wanted to hurt Atlas and Regal. That’s beyond fucked up.
It’s been almost impossible to get Atlas to even venture out of her room over the last few days, and the only time she’s been willing was when there was something to do for Remy’s funeral. She would force herself to rally and help out where she could with the arrangements. She would go around and make sure everyone was okay, completely forgetting that she was the one who wasn’t okay.
Now Quinn is gone, Remy can finally be put to rest. Regal vowed that he wouldn’t do it—couldn’t do it—until she had been avenged and Quinn was dead. So not only did Atlas save herself and the team by dealing with Quinn, she allowed Remy to finally find peace. But even that doesn’t make her see that what she did was a good thing. I don’t think anything will ever make her see that. I just hope she finds a way to move on from it and leave the guilt behind.
It’s not even like Atlas knew what would happen when she pointed the staff at Quinn. She really thought that just her holding the staff would bring an end to the battle—that Quinn would give up when she saw we’d won.
She couldn’t have known Quinn would be obliterated that way, none of us could have. I tried to tell her that, and she just told me she’s the team’s leader and she should have known. She’s so fucking frustrating at times. It’s almost like she wants to bear the weight of everything that’s happened. I know that’s not fair, but it’s how I feel. But I’m not angry at her. Not really. I’m angry at myself because I can’t reach her. I can’t pull her back to the light as she did for me.
I wanted to stay with her last night, to make sure she knew that no matter what happened, she wasn’t alone in any of this, but she told me she needed some time to get her head around everything so she could say her goodbyes to Remy properly. I didn’t push it. Maybe once today is over, she can get back to herself.
Remy will be put to rest in half an hour. Regal has requested a private ceremony, just the team, Tracey, Sadie, and Pest, and it will take place in Costa Rica on Remy’s favorite beach. Of course Regal was right when he said Remy wouldn’t want a somber occasion with mourners dressed in black and crying. So we’ll be wearing beach wear, and we’ll be celebrating Remy’s life rather than mourning her death. It sounds less bleak than anything I’ imagined, and I think it’s the perfect way to say goodbye to Remy.
I push open the door to the loft and step in.
“Hey guys,” I call out as I enter the living room.
Saudia and Tracey sit side by side on the couch, and Perry sits across from them with Regal. Langston paces the ground behind them.
“It’s about damn time,” Langston snaps as she stops pacing and stares at me.
“What? I’m half an hour early. And Pest a
nd Sadie aren’t even here yet,” I say.
Langston sighs and rolls her eyes. She stares at me like I’m some sort of idiot.
“Yes, but her royal highness won’t come out of her room again, and we don’t need Pest or Sadie to convince her to put a bikini on and show her face. We need you for that,” she says.
“Langston,” Regal says in a low warning voice. “What did I say about no bitching today?”
Langston rolls her eyes again.
“Fine. I’m sorry,” she says, sounding anything but sorry.
“She’s right though, Kane. Atlas isn’t responding to any of us when we’re knocking on her door. Will you go talk to her?” Regal says.
I nod and head for the bedrooms.
“Hey Kane,” Perry calls after me, and I turn back. “Will this be the first funeral you’ve ever been to where you didn’t kill the person who was dead?”
“Perry!” Saudia hisses.
I should be offended, but I’m not. How can I be offended by Perry? He’s so ridiculous I can’t even begin to take him seriously. If anything, I’m more annoyed that he’s being so insensitive around Regal on a day like today, but Regal is used to him. He might even appreciate a bit of lightheartedness.
“Yup, and the next one I go to will be yours. Oh, but if Regal doesn’t beat me to it, I’ll be the one who killed you, so it might not count.”
I do my best to keep a straight face, but Perry’s look of horror is so comical I can’t hold it in anymore, and I burst out laughing. Perry relaxes and laughs too.
“Let it be known for the record and all that if Kane kills me, he isn’t invited to my funeral,” he says.
“Oh no, how will I ever manage to go on?” I say. As I walk away shaking my head, Regal joins in the laughter and adds in on the fun.
“Would I be invited, Perry?”
“What if you killed me?” I hear him ask in the distance.
If it seems in bad taste to be laughing and joking on the day of Remy’s funeral, it’s only because it’s been so long since she died that everyone has done their grieving. Everyone it seems except Atlas. I steel myself for the reaction when I tell her to pull herself together and show her face for her friends, and I push her bedroom door open.
Her room is empty. Her bed is unmade, so she’s been here, but she’s certainly not here now. I leave her room and tap gently on the bathroom door in case she’s in there. The unlocked door swings open, revealing another empty room.
Where the hell is she? I feel a swirling of worry in the pit of my stomach. Surely she wouldn’t blow this off?
I go back to the living room, where Sadie is now sitting beside Saudia, and Pest sits across from her beside Regal, a puppy dog expression on his face as he watches her rummage in her purse for something. I resist the urge to roll my eyes at him. I can’t believe he’s still not over their night together. Not that he was ever under her. They had one drunken kiss forever ago, and he follows her around like a lapdog now.
“Umm, guys? She’s not there,” I say. “I think something happened.”
“Why? She could have just gone out,” Saudia says.
“Yeah, because she’s had a hip and happening social life lately,” I snap. “You really think she’d miss this by choice?”
“Don’t worry. She’ll be there,” Sadie says.
“She’s contacted you?” Langston says.
Sadie shakes her head.
“No. But on the day of her mom’s funeral, she was nowhere to be found. We almost called the whole thing off, but it was too late for that. She turned up for the service as if nothing had happened. She told me later she just needed some air and some space to think. She’d been walking the streets half the night, but I think it helped her face the day,” Sadie explains.
I have to admit that makes sense. It would explain why she was so adamant I not stay with her last night; she knew I wouldn’t have let her go sneaking off into the night alone.
“And if she doesn’t turn up?” I ask.
“Then we’ll find her, Kane,” Sadie says.
I want to argue the point, but it’s only because Sadie is the one making it. If anyone else had been the one to speak up, I would have accepted it, and I don’t want to make a scene today. Today isn’t about Atlas or me. It’s about Remy and Regal and the team moving on.
“Fine,” I say.
I can’t resist having a dig at Sadie.
“But if anything happens to her, that’s on you,” I add.
Sadie looks like she wants to try and say something to make me feel better, but what can she say that will make up for her abandoning me as a kid? Nothing, that’s what. And I can’t bear to hear the sadness in her voice while she tries. Somehow, I end up feeling guilty for pushing her away, even though it’s her own damn fault.
“Let’s just get going then?” I say, cutting Sadie off before she can get started.
“Yes,” Pest says, glaring at me. “Before anyone says something they might regret.”
He huffs past me and goes to take Sadie’s hand. She sidesteps him, making it look casual, but it’s obvious she is so over his affections.
Regal stands up and makes his way to the front of the group. He leads us out of the loft, and we all follow him in a respectful silence.
I have to admit that Playa Tamarindo, Remy’s favorite place in the world, is a beautiful place. The long white stretch of sand goes on as far as I can see, and the crystal-clear water of the sea laps over the shore, giving a gentle tinkling sound that rings out clearly in the quiet tranquility of the place. Because it’s still so early, the beach is empty except for a lone jogger, but Sadie has cast a cloaking spell so no one can see or hear us anyway.
Remy’s body has already been cremated, and Regal clutches her golden urn like a lifeline. The rest of us have accepted Remy’s passing and mourned her death, but for Regal, I believe this is still as fresh as the day it happened.
He clears his throat and turns to face us, and I can see the emotion shining in his eyes. I want to look away, but I force myself not to. It seems disrespectful.
“So, should we get started?” he asks.
“What about Atlas?” Perry says.
Regal shrugs.
“She obviously isn’t coming. Maybe she decided it’s too hard for her or something,” Regal says sadly.
I can tell by the way he says it that he’s attempting to sound casual, but he’s crushed that she isn’t here for him. As much as I don’t like the idea of Regal getting too close to Atlas, I am shocked that she hasn’t shown up for him, and my concern for her goes up a notch. This isn’t something she would choose to do. Something had to have happened to keep her away from this.
“Pest,” I hiss. “I have to get out of here and go find Atlas.”
“Remy was more than just my sister, she was my best friend,” Regal starts.
Pest glares at me and shakes his head. He’s right. I’ve missed the moment I could have left, and I can’t walk away now Regal has started talking.
“She was a bright light when darkness was all around us. Sure, she had her problems, but they never came before any of us. She was there for all of us whenever we needed her, and she was always ready with a smile and a cup of tea to cheer us up,” Regal goes on.
Saudia laughs softly.
“More like a shot of tequila,” she says.
“Or a glass of still warm yak’s milk,” Perry adds.
Regal smiles, a sad smile, but it reaches his eyes, and I think I was wrong earlier. I think he has made his peace with this, as much as anyone ever can.
“I remember when we were twelve. I’d just been dumped by my first girlfriend, who I obviously thought was the one at the time. I was heartbroken, and when I told Remy why I was upset, she pulled out a flute and just started playing it. She was goofing around, doing this stupid dance, and suddenly I was laughing. I don’t even remember the girl’s name now. But I still remember how Remy could light up a room and make me forget my problems,” Re
gal says.
Normally at a ceremony like this one, everyone would share their memories of the person who passed away, but we have all done that for Remy already, and Regal knows it. I think that’s why he wanted to keep this thing so small. It’s a day that’s long overdue. A day for him to finally let her go.
He is still talking, something about their sixteenth birthday party, but I can’t concentrate on his words. All I can think about is Atlas. I just know something is wrong. There is no way in hell Atlas would have missed this if she were able to come. She hasn’t just wandered off somewhere. Something bad has happened to her.
It pisses me off how casual everyone else is about her disappearing. If it were one of them, she would have been out searching the streets already. I know she hasn’t exactly been easy to get along with the last few days, but surely they care about her a little bit.
“Kane?” Saudia says, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Huh?” I say.
She pushes a little glass into my hand. It’s filled with a toxic smelling liquid.
“What’s this?” I ask.
“It’s Remy’s favorite cocktail. An unpleasant mixture of cherry brandy, cough syrup, and Midori. We’re going to toast to her memory,” Saudia says.
She keeps her voice even, but I can read the glare in her eyes. Don’t you dare make this about Atlas, her look screams at me. I nod and peer into the glass of brown sludge.
“To Remy,” Regal says, holding his glass up.
“To Remy,” we all repeat.
I down the drink and wince as I feel it hit the back of my throat. It tastes like sticky, sweet oil.
“You really think she liked this or was it just her final joke on us all?” Perry splutters as he swallows the foul cocktail.
Langston laughs.
“It’s definitely a joke. It just has to be,” she says. “Remember when she made us all drink vodka shots until we’d drank that bar dry in Italy? And then the next morning when we were all ill she admitted she’d been drinking water?”