Page 105 of The Shadowbound King

Throughme.

Magic roared in my veins.

I opened my eyes. Instead of a staff, I held a spear in my hands.

Andrin bent over Rane. Othor stood, his robes swinging behind him. He pushed his blond hair from his eyes—which widened as they fell on me.

“You wanted power, Othor,” I said, my voice rippling across the King’s Grove. I hefted the spear. “Here it is.”

I hurled the spear. It streaked across the grove, impaling Othor through the heart.

He staggered back, his eyes wide with shock. For a moment, he stayed upright, light spreading over his face. It rushed everywhere, illuminating him. Then, little cracks spiderwebbed across his skin. They spread up and down his body, forming riftsin his robes and hair. He grimaced, then opened his mouth on a scream.

Light flared. Othor exploded, a thousand pieces of light scattering before winking out. The spear thumped to the ground.

The ropes dropped from around Rane’s neck. Coughing and gagging, he rubbed his throat. Then, slowly, he and Andrin looked at me.

“Your chest,” Andrin rasped.

I looked down. The wound in my chest was closed. My hands shook as I tugged the edges of my ruined bodice apart. My skin was healed, with no sign of an injury.

Leaves crunched, and Andrin and Rane appeared in front of me. Andrin reached for me, then stopped when a loud groan sounded behind him.

Together, the three of us turned toward the Edeloak. The hidden wound appeared and then slowly closed, the injury vanishing. At the tree’s base, the black rot faded, replaced with healthy bark. The golden glow around the Edeloak dimmed and then faded completely. The tree was still beautiful, but now it was…ordinary.

My heart thumped harder—and the beats had never felt sweeter. Andrin and Rane looked at me, twin expressions of awe on their faces. Slowly, Andrin tipped my chin up.

“Your eyes…” he whispered. “They’re brighter than before.”

Rane swallowed hard. His hand shook as he tucked my hair behind my ear. “Oh,” he said, his voice an octave higher than usual.

I reached up and felt my ear, encountering a tapered point. “Oh,” I said, my voice matching Rane’s.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

“That’s one way to put it,” Andrin murmured. He placed a gentle palm over my chest, letting my heart thump against his hand. He looked toward the Edeloak. “Thank you,” he rasped.When he turned back to me, tears sheened his eyes. “It didn’t make me choose. It chose for me. The Edeloak gave you its heart.”

Emotions spun through me. Gratitude. Wonder. Fear.

“I’m not sure what it means,” I said.

Andrin smiled. “Me neither. But it’s going to be fun finding out.”

Rane turned and retrieved the spear from the ground. When he straightened, it was a staff once more. He brought it to me. “I believe this is yours now.”

I took the staff, which fit against my palm like it had been carved for me. If my heart was the Kree, did that make me part…tree? I lifted my head. “Do you think this means I can’t leave Ishulum?”

The men looked at each other, one of their unspoken exchanges passing between them. When they turned back me, Rane lifted my hand, murder dancing in his eyes.

“I have an idea, my lady.”

Moments later,I walked through the passageways of Purecliff with Andrin and Rane on my heels and magic singing in my veins.

Overturned furniture and broken glass littered the ground. Judging from the state of the fortress, the servants had looted as they fled. I couldn’t blame them. My father had ruled with a golden, merciless fist. Undoubtedly, House Lornlark would fall now, our secret heritage exposed. The crown would probably confiscate the land and fortress. Fine. I didn’t want them. There was nothing for me in Eftar.

Before I left for good, however, I had one final task to attend to.

When I reached my father’s bedchamber door, I paused and drew a deep breath.

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