Fate closed the door behind her, wincing as the lock clicked into place. The bedroom, decorated with the many bones of unfortunate creatures, seemed to watch her, judge her. She clutched her stomach as hunger pangs ate her insides, the lust for souls growing with every passing moment. Desire clawed at her, weakening her will. She’d gone to the Soul Nexus too many times to count in the last few days, attempting to quell the growing desire within—but the hunger was winning. The Nexus could not quench her thirst, her ache for souls. The other shades in the city seemed completely satiated by the pulsating orb located in Vrill’s private quarters. Their need to kill temporarily eliminated—but not hers. Hers was a relentless obsession that threatened to consume her if she dropped her guard but for a moment.Fate crossed the room quickly, towards the dresser, glowing white eyes targeted on the top drawer. She opened it, slipped her hand in, and pulled out the amethyst vial. The elixir Ever had held until the moment she fell into her inexplicable sleep. The elixir meant for Fate. She cradled it in her palm, the ornamental bottle cool and glinting like a purple diamond against the flicker of candlelight. Thick liquid sloshed within, Fate’s apparent cure, created by the blind shaman that dwelt within the hidden city of demons.Fate eyed the vial, considering it carefully. It was meant to fix her, stop the hunger and end her suffering. If it worked, it would save lives. But there was no guarantee. Nothing like this had ever been attempted before, especially on a shade like Fate. She was different. Fate sensed the evil influence simmering beneath the surface. An uncontrollable and terrifying power that awaited its chance to be free, to destroy the living.She sighed, placing the bottle back into the drawer and covering it with some clothes. What if the old demon got it wrong? What if he couldn’t be trusted? Demons and shades were mortal enemies. Forever on opposite sides of Dark World. What would prevent him from betraying her?Fate shook her head. The shaman was a sweet old guy, harmless. But, even so, she didn’t know if she should risk it and tempt unleashing the dark side. For all she knew, the cure could be her own personal poison. But her greatest fear wasn’t dying; she’d been dead before. No, she didn’t fear death—she feared becoming an unstoppable killer.