Chapter One
The Whispering Veil
The shadows came with the fog.
Eira stood at the edge of the forest, cloak drawn tight around her shoulders as mist curled around her boots. The village behind her slept in peace, but here, where the trees thinned into the wild beyond, the air was different—heavier, watching.
The Veil was thinning again.
She felt it in her bones before she saw it: the shimmer in the air like heat over summer stone, but colder, darker. Every child in Eldhollow was told not to wander past the old stone markers after dusk. That beyond them, the world didn't quite belong to mortals.
But Eira had never been very good at listening.
A soft pulse tugged at her chest. The stone around her neck—her mother's talisman—glowed faintly against her skin. It only did that when he was near.
Eira took a breath. "You're late."
The fog stirred.
He stepped out from the nothingness like a dream half-remembered—tall, cloaked in shadow, eyes like stormlight. His presence bent the air around him, blurred the edges of reality. The forest stilled.
"I was never meant to come at all," he said, voice like velvet soaked in thunder. "But you called me."
Eira's hand trembled, whether from fear or longing, she couldn't tell. "I didn't mean to."
"But you did," he said, stepping closer. "You always do."
He reached for her, fingers brushing her cheek—a touch cold and electric, like moonlight on steel. She should have pulled away. She didn't.
"You're not real," she whispered, though she knew better.
His lips curved, just slightly. "And yet, here I am."
He was not of her world. She had known it the first time she saw him—years ago now, when grief had driven her into the woods and something ancient had answered. He was a shadow prince, born of the realm that existed between dusk and dream. A thing of legend.
A thing she couldn't stop thinking about.
"You shouldn't keep coming," she said, her voice soft. "It's dangerous."
"For me?" he asked.
"For me," she replied.
He tilted his head, and for the first time, his mask of calm faltered. "Then why do you still wear the charm?"
Eira reached for the pendant. It pulsed gently, as if it, too, recognized him.
"Because I don't know how to forget you," she said.
The forest breathed around them. Somewhere far off, a bell rang—three times, low and mournful. The wards were weakening. The Veil would not hold much longer.
"I have to go," she said.
He stepped forward, and the shadows deepened. "Eira, when the Veil falls, you'll have to choose."
She swallowed. "Choose what?"
He leaned in close, and the world quieted to hear him speak.
"Between the world you know… and the one that's been waiting for you."
Then he was gone—folded into mist and memory, like he'd never been there at all.
Eira stood alone, heart pounding. The wind whispered her name like a promise.
And in the distance, the shadows kissed the edge of the sky