Page 32 of The Shadowbound King

“What is it?” Rane sat watching me, his face etched with concern.

“I…” My pulse thudded in my neck. Had I imagined the light? I must have. And if, by some miracle of the gods, light had thrived beyond the Embervale, it was gone now. Dead and reborn as something worse than death.

“Andrin?”

I realized I stared blankly, one hand gripping the tangled sheets like a lifeline.

“Nothing,” I said, releasing the fabric. “I was too deep.”

A hint of censure entered Rane’s gaze. “You shouldn’t connect so soon after returning from the Edelfen. It’s dangerous.”

“I know.”

“So why do it?”

Sheepishness stole through me. For a moment, I considered lying. But Rane knew me too well for that.

“I wanted to know the time,” I admitted.

Purple eyes widened. “Have you ever heard of sticking your head out the window? Or perhaps summoning a servant?”

I glanced toward the opening that led to the main chamber. “Keep your voice down.”

He followed the direction of my gaze. Then he grunted, some of the outrage fading from his face. When he spoke next, he pitched his voice below human range. “She watched us enter.”

Hardly unexpected. We would have been hard to miss from her perch inside the cage. Still, the thought of Lornlark’s daughter observing me at my most vulnerable was like acid in my veins. “How much did she see?”

Rane looked at me. “She couldn’t have seen much.”

“Even a glimpse is too much.” Only a fool flaunted his weaknesses in front of his enemy.

“Will you question her now?” Rane asked.

I shook my head. “Not just yet. Walto was always proud. From the little I’ve observed, his daughter is no different. An evening of service should help her understand how drastically her status has changed. She’s more likely to cooperate if she realizes she could spend the rest of her brief mortal years filling cups and scrubbing tables.”

Rane’s eyes gleamed in the chamber’s dim light. “Or she could become even more determined to fight you.”

Irritation put a growl in my voice. “Your optimism is inspirational.”

He smiled, untroubled in the face of my anger. “I’m not optimistic. I’m practical. Mirella is stronger than I expected.” He smoothed a hand over his jaw, the smile fading from his eyes even as it continued curving his lips. “Strong things are harder to break, but they can be broken. Everything can be broken.”

A shiver went down my spine. “Sometimes, you frighten even me.”

He chuckled. “I seriously doubt that. And now, as you’ve ordered, my king, I must go ready myself for a feast.” He slipped from the bed in a graceful ripple of muscle. His black hair swayed against the small of his back as he moved toward the bathing chamber. Bruises mottled his tight, round ass. More discoloration spread down the backs of his thighs.

“Rane,” I called.

He paused, meeting my gaze over his shoulder.

“You’re well?” I asked, my voice gruff in my ears.

Rane’s eyes were as cool as the purple crystals we used to gather on the shores of the Silver Sea. “I’m a Shadow Eater, Andrin. You’ve never given me anything I didn’t want.”

As he disappeared into the bathing chamber, I turned my attention to the archway.

Everything can be broken.I knew that better than anyone. The problem was, not everything could be put back together. Sometimes, the damage was too great. The pieces too small. When a dead leaf turned to dust, nothing could restore it.

Leaving the bed, I pulled a pair of trousers from the wardrobe and stepped into them. Then I went to a mirror. My eyes were darker than usual, the ring around my irises smearing into the paler blue like a river behind a failing dam. My sigils were a thick black band that started just under my chin and spread down to my shoulders before descending to my wrists. My hair fell to my hips in a copper tangle. I pushed the strands behind my ears, exposing the tapered points.

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