Shadow Milk had a short temper. He lashed out easily—especially considering you were still earning his trust. He wasn’t exactly known for letting people in, not after spending a thousand years locked inside a giant silver tree. Unsurprisingly, any mention of his past was a hard no. He didn’t want to be reminded of the tree, the years lost, or the time when he was still considered “good.”

So when you pushed him for answers? Not your brightest idea.

He snapped. Fast. With a growl, he sprang out the window, his voice sharp as a blade.

"I'm not a cat—you can't domesticate me!"

And with that, he vanished into the night.

That was around midnight.

At about four in the morning, you were dead asleep—until the bed shifted beneath you. Groggy, you lifted the blankets, only to find Shadow Milk’s glowing eyes staring up at you from the pitch-black space beneath the covers.