Page 71 of The Shadowbound King

The animal settled, his nostrils flaring. The coppery scent of blood soaked the air. Rivulets of it clotted in the ugly wounds on the animal’s side.

“He lost his blindfold,” Vivia said, shaking off Kassander. Hands extended in a cautious gesture, she moved to the horse’s other side and touched his muzzle. “We were overcome at the edge of the forest.”

Andrin looked at her sharply. “Just now?”

“Yes, sire. We were ambushed.” Her tone turned bitter as she stroked the horse’s mane. “The Edelfen wanted Thraxos. It wentright for his blindfold, but it was careful not to blind him. And—” Vivia stifled her sentence.

“What is it?” Rane asked.

Anxiety etched Vivia’s features. “The shadows pursued us into the meadow. It was like nothing held them back.”

Andrin released Thraxos’s reins, then barked a series of rapid-fire orders. “Vivia, take Thraxos to the stable. Othor will accompany you and heal the damage. Kassander, you and your men are with Rane and me.” He swung toward Ginhad. “Take Mirella inside and find her something to eat.”

Rane caught Andrin’s eye. At Andrin’s nod, Rane shifted swiftly into a crow and flew from the courtyard.

Andrin signaled to Kassander and the Shadow Eaters, who twisted into theirwereforms and ran or galloped toward the arch. Andrin followed, his strides eating up the ground. As he passed under the arch, he shifted into an elk and sprinted from the courtyard.

The sudden silence was deafening. Slowly, I turned to find Vivia examining Thraxos’s injuries. Her black cloak reached to her ankles. She wore her hair in a single fat braid that left her neck bare. Abruptly, I realized I’d never seen her without a scarf or high collar.

Now I knew why.

Thick, puffy scars marred her throat, their jagged edges twisting across what had once been intricate sigils. If the symbols had ever resembled vines or animals, they were unrecognizable now, the designs distorted by shiny, pale tissue.

As if she felt my eyes on her, Vivia stiffened and then spun around. She lifted a hand to her throat, then seemed to catch herself and jerked it down.

“Go on,” she said tightly. “Get an eyeful.”

My face heated. Othor observed me with a cool expression. Ginhad offered Vivia a slightly frazzled smile.

“Let me help you get Thraxos to the stable, my lady. He needs attention.”

Vivia acted as if he hadn’t spoken. “Do my scars repulse you?” she asked me.

“No,” I said evenly. The injury must have nearly killed her. It looked like something had tried to rip her throat out.

She took a threatening step toward me, her blue eyes shooting sparks. “I don’t need pity from a human.”

Thraxos gave a low groan. He dropped his head, stumbling on suddenly shaking legs. Bright red blood pumped from the gashes on his flank.

Vivia whirled. “Thraxos!”

I moved without thinking, rushing to her side and laying hands above the wounds.

“What are you doing?” Vivia snarled. “Don’t touch him!”

Heat sparked under my hands. Black visions flooded my mind, formless shapes spinning in a whirlwind that sent dizziness crashing through me. I clenched my teeth against the onslaught, my hands pressed to Thraxos’s side.

The spinning vortex seethed, expanding and then rushing toward me. My heart raced, and panic sank sharp claws into my chest as the shadows crowded me.

Trapped.I was trapped. Lightning flashed behind my closed eyelids. The panic intensified. I couldn’t get out. I had to… I needed to run. My heart raced, and wind whipped through my mane.

The meadow stretched ahead. The Embervale rose behind it. I had to run. Shadows licked at my heels. Fire streaked down my side.

No.Pressing my palms more firmly against Thraxos’s flank, I forced another image into my mind. In the vision, he galloped through a sunlight field, muscle rippling under a sleek, healthy coat.

Gold flared, painting the insides of my eyelids. Agony streaked down my side, and I breathed through it as energy spiraled within me, a tower of it climbing…climbing. My palms burned. The tower streaked down my arms.

I opened my eyes as light flashed under my hands. Thraxos snorted, a shiver racing over his flank. His wounds closed, sealing shut with no trace of a scar.

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