Ravyn

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A village set ablaze, children’ screams devoured by the wail of flames—the Spirits proved just as wicked and ruthless as the Shadows. Stripped of the mark upon my wrist, bloodied and raw, I was thrown into their prisons. Now I seek the one being that’d let my family fall to ruin.

 

The Shadow. The Prince of Pride.

 

But Shadows do not come without sins.

 

Derrick

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A broken sin this mortal has made me. For why do I chase her under a clouded moon as if my shadows might wisk away should she be harmed? Every swipe of my blood dripping in crimson is not that of reason but of a primal need to hunt, to slay, in consequence of angst.

 

My siblings have noticed. Murkied waters taint my father’s suspicions. Sooner or later my resolve will be nothing but ash to drift upon the wind.

 

So how do I protect her while seeking to cease the war upon my kind? Because if the answer were to be her ultimate death, the Shadows would not survive.