Page 79 of The Shadowbound King

“Yes,” Andrin said. His tone was low and urgent, his eyes fixed on mine. “I won’t force you to do this. But the fate of both our realms depends on finding the Kree. We need your help, Mirella. Not as a prisoner, but as a partner. If I could do this myself, I would. But my bond with the Edeloak keeps me tied to Autumn. If I leave, the tree dies. And if it dies, so does our kingdom.”

I let the silence stretch as I measured their words against the rising knot of mistrust in my chest.

“You could have asked for my help from the beginning,” I said finally.

Rane’s jaw tightened. “You are Walto’s daughter. We had no way of knowing if we could trust you.”

“You did,” I said evenly. “I told you. You just didn’t listen.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Andrin broke the silence. “You’re right. We should have. We’re listening now.”

A decision stretched before me. If I didn’t help them, people would die. But what if this was just another game? “You want me to trust you? Fine. You can start by trusting me. Take off the collar.”

Their gazes met, a silent exchange passing between them. Finally, Andrin stepped forward. His fingers brushed my chin as he reached for the metal band. A soft click sounded, and the collar came free.

I rubbed my neck. With the weight gone, my head felt curiously light—as if it might float away.

“It’s important that you don’t try to leave through the shadows,” Andrin said.

He meant escape. But his worries were unfounded. “You’ve seen firsthand how my father feels about me. If I run to Purecliff, he’ll wed me to Lord Vilgot or some other elfkin noble. I have nowhere to go.”

He inclined his head. And then silence descended. Once again, options confronted me, the weight of decision replacing the burden of the collar.

A shadow tumbled across the carpet, drawing my gaze to the window. Leaves drifted past the glass. Outside, the sky was just beginning to lighten.

“I’m too tired to make any decisions tonight,” I said, turning back to the men. “I need a bath and some sleep.”

Without waiting for a response, I moved past them and into the bathing chamber. I was slow to undress, expecting them to enter at any moment. When they didn’t, I bathed quickly, reveling in the simple pleasure of being clean. When I finished, I pulled a nightgown from the stack Ginhad had stashed in a cabinet. Then, drawing a deep breath, I reentered the bedchamber.

The lamp burned low on the bedside table, casting a soft glow that warred with the first rays of dawn streaming through the windows. One of the couches from the main chamber now sat near the bed.

“You’ll sleep there,” Andrin said, appearing from the shadows near the door. “And tomorrow, we’ll begin again.”

Rane entered behind him and disappeared into the bathing chamber. They shared a bed—and now I’d sleep beside them.

“No one will touch you, Mirella,” Andrin said in a low voice. “Not unless you want it.”

My heart skipped a beat. “I don’t want it.”

Andrin’s gaze was steady as an odd tension stretched between us. Then he went to the lamp and snuffed the flame. As if he meant to prove his words, he climbed into bed and settled against the pillows with his back to me.

Exhaustion won out over wariness, and I slid beneath the blankets someone—Andrin, perhaps—had arranged over the couch. The room was still, the pink rays of dawn stretching through the window. Leaves continued their gentle descent. I rolled to my side, one arm under my head, and watched them fall. Unlike the cage, the couch didn’t creak or shift beneath me. It was solid, steady.

My eyelids drooped. Soft footsteps sounded, and fabric rustled behind me. Rane had finished bathing and now climbed into bed with Andrin.

No one will touch you, Mirella. Not unless you want it.

Did Andrin want it? And why did I care?

Sleep pulled me under before I could think of an answer.

The morning brought no answers,but neither Andrin nor Rane pressured me to decide. Instead, they seemed determined to let me choose my course free of their influence.

That didn’t mean they left me alone, though. Over the next few days, a fragile rhythm formed between us.

The men rose early, poring over maps in the main chamber and charting where Vivia and the Shadow Eaters would patrol that day. Rane persuaded Andrin to stay away from the forest, arguing that everything hinged on Andrin remaining healthy and safe. Andrin grumbled but relented, his duties pulling him to the tower where he monitored the encroaching darkness.

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