Page 67 of The Shadowbound King

Walto didn’t appear to notice. For the first time, he broke eye contact, looking over his shoulder and raising his voice. “Lord Vilgot of Midpeak, do you press your claim to my daughter, Mirella of Purecliff?”

The older man stepped away from the tent. “I do.”

Noise at my back jerked me around. Mirella screamed as she flew from the chair and slid forward across the ground. Rane and I lunged for her at the same time. He reached her first, pulling her to her feet and holding her against him.

Pain flashed across her face. She jerked in Rane’s grip, as if an invisible force yanked her forward.

I spun back to Walto, who regarded me with a slight, satisfied smile.

“You should have spent more time studying with Othor,” he said. “The laws of the Covenant are clear. I have a signedcontract. The betrothal agreement gives my daughter to Vilgot of Midpeak.”

Fresh fury seared my veins. “You and I aren’t finished here.”

Walto tucked the scroll back into his breastplate. “What more is there to say?” He raised his voice. “Mirella, come!”

I turned in time to see her jerk against Rane’s grip. The muscles in his arms bulged as he held onto her. Behind them, Kassander and the other Shadow Eaters stood at the ready. They wouldn’t intervene unless I ordered it. Rane held Mirella, but he couldn’t hold her forever.

Fortunately, he didn’t need to. He only needed to hold her for a little while.

I closed the distance between us. Mirella was pale and wide-eyed as she lurched against Rane’s grip. He grimaced, yanking her more firmly against him.

“She’s untouched,” I told him. “Change that.”

Mirella’s breath hitched.

Spinning, I stalked back to the Covenant.

Chapter

Sixteen

MIRELLA

My heart raced as Andrin returned to the Covenant.

What did he mean, saying I was untouched and telling Rane to change it?Here?Now? He couldn’t mean that. Another surge of power jerked me forward, scattering my thoughts.

“No, you don’t,” Rane growled, tightening his grip on my arms. He dragged me backward, lifting me off the ground as he fought the magic that tried to force me across the Covenant. The world blurred, and then my teeth clicked together as he deposited me into the chair. When the magic drew me forward again, he waved his hand, flinging a thick rope of shadow at me.

It lodged under my breasts and wrapped around the chair, clamping me against it. Another wave of Rane’s hand, and two smaller ropes flew to my wrists and fastened them to the chair’s arms. The hook in my chest tugged, but I went nowhere, shadow securing my body to the chair. Panic gripped me, and I struggled against my bonds.

“Easy, Mirella,” Rane said, stepping behind me and resting a light hand on my shoulder. A contemplative note entered his voice. “Or do you want the ancient lord with the fleshy lips?”

“No,” I said, eyeing Lord Vilgot. He eyed me back, his tongue poking between his plump lips. The tip was so red it was almost purple, conjuring images of sliced beets in my mind. Disgust churned in my stomach, and I looked away.

“I thought not,” Rane said softly. “Your tastes run differently. I didn’t realize how differently until today…”

Unbidden, my gaze shot to Andrin. He faced off with my father at the boundary, his braid like a trail of fire down his back. It had swung with his steps on the long trek through the Edelfen. He and Rane had moved smoothly, seamlessly, their bodies attuned to each other the same way they’d been in the stable. And even with shadows stalking my steps and glowing eyes winking from the forest, my mind had returned again and again to the stable.

I bit the inside of my cheek now, trying to dispel the images from my head. But it was no use. The scenes were burned on the inside of my skull. Andrin had branded me with them as surely as he’d branded Rane with his crop.

“But perhaps I should have guessed,” Rane said above me.

“Wh-What?” I asked, groping for the threads of the conversation I’d lost track of. I turned my head, encountering his black sleeve and the edges of the sigils around his wrist.

“No, no,” he said, gentle chiding in his voice. His fingers were equally gentle as he slid them into my hair and turned my attention back to Andrin. “Eyes on your king, sweetheart. You should know that by now if you want to please him.”

My throat went dry, and my heart thumped faster. “I don’t know what you mean.”

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