“Impossible,” Crave whispered. “You can’t—You aren’t—” The male shook his head, clearly struggling to understand what he was seeing. “Shadow magic doesn’t belong in your realm. Where did you get this power?” “The same place I got the sword,” Khydan snarled. Tendrils of shadow whipped from his hands. At the same time, shadows spilled from Crave and Githrand, but their magic was nothing compared to Khydan’s. Paler. Weaker, somehow.
