Daerius

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"Wait these things know you?" I ask and she nods.

"I kind of forgot to tell you that I lived with them for over a year, that's how I know so much about them," she mutters.

My eyes widen in surprise. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. Now they will want us to come with them, which will add a few days onto our trip but if we refuse, they might kill us."

"I think we can go with them," I shrug.

She turns to the shadows and says something in a foreign tongue. The shadows make strange hissing noises then turn back towards the mountain.

"Just follow them," Lyza says. We start walking up the mountain and I glance back at Angel whose eyes are wide with confusion.

"I told you to keep your mouth shut, next time you disobey me, you will be severely punished," I growl at her.

Mykael suddenly appears at my side, worry written across his face. "Why are we following these creatures? What if they mean to kill us?" He asks quietly.

"Lyza seems to trust them, and I trust her," I shrug.

He still looks unconvinced. "I don't trust her," he says and I growl a little.

"You don't have to trust her, you just have to trust me," I tell him.

He bows his head slightly. "I apologize Alpha, I meant no disrespect," he mutters, casting his gaze to the rocky ground.

He slows until he falls in line with Angel and my guards. I walk beside Lyza and glance at the shadows moving quickly and stealthily up the rocky terrain.

"How did you live with them? I thought you said they kill whoever passes through these mountains," I ask.

"My fire fascinated them. I made a deal with their leader that I would give them fire in exchange for shelter and protection. They didn't like cutting down the forest in order to have a fire, so they tried dozens of different things, but then when I showed them I could make fire without burning anything, they practically worshipped me," She shrugs.

"What exactly are they? I've heard stories and myths about things in the mountains, but they simply described them as shadows," I whisper, snatching a glimpse of the black things.

"My father called them praestrigiae, it means false in Latin. They are both living and dead, nearly impossible to get rid of, and have no flesh or blood. They are called shadows because they can move through anything, including us. To have one pass through you is nightmarish, like a cold mist that seems to bring all your fears to life," she mutters, shivering.

"You sound as if you've experienced it."

"I have, and it was one of the worst things I've ever felt in my life."

We stay quiet for the rest of the hike up the mountain. It is completely dark and I can barely see the praestrigiae, as Lyza called them.

They look like a man-shaped cloud of smoke, with no definition in their limbs or face, and they set my wolf and I on edge.

We come into a large clearing with little huts made of wood and covered in some kind of plaster that probably make them waterproof.

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