A shadow in the ember

A cool hand closed over my wrist as I twisted, thrusting up sharply with my right hand—my dagger. The blade met resistance, and the shadowstone, so sharp and deadly, pierced the skin, sank far—sank deep into his chest at the very same second the jolt of energy danced across my flesh, and I realized who had grabbed me.

Who I had just stabbed in the chest.

In the heart.

Oh, gods.

I lifted my gaze from where my hand and the dagger’s hilt were flush with a chest adorned in black, to eyes…

Wide eyes streaked with swirling wisps of eather.

Eyes of the silver-eyed god.