Page 5 of The Shadowbound King

The deception worked, but my ancestors never forgot their gifts. Over the centuries, the Lornlarks had married elfkin toelfkin, preserving our ability to move through shadow like our elven forebears.

My father turned me back to him, forcing a fresh bolt of pain down my arm. “The elves are jealous of their power, and none more so than those of the Autumn Court. They’ve veiled their lands in shadow to conceal their gifts.”

Nausea burned my gut as he maintained his grip on my shoulder. But the pain curbed my tongue—and hopefully concealed my exasperation. No one knew why the Autumn Court was shrouded in darkness. That didn’t stop my father from pretending he understood the elves’ reasons for hiding their lands.

“We are among the handful of elfkin left in Andulum,” he continued. “It’s our burden and privilege to ensure our blood flows into future generations.” Determination glinted in his eyes. “And that starts with you.”

I stared, my heart pounding. “What do you mean? What are you planning?”

“The Lord of Midpeak’s mother was an elfkin woman. He inherited some of her magic.”

A surge of panic lent me the strength to tear from my father’s grip. I stumbled backward, my heart threatening to burst from my ribs. “I’ve never heard this.” And I’d heard plenty about Midpeak. Situated on the other side of Eftar, its lands bordered the Eastern Ocean. But rumors of its lord’s brutality rippled all the way to Purecliff.

My father gave me an impatient look. “That’s hardly a surprise. We keep our secrets to ourselves.”

“Lord Vilgot of Midpeak is fifty years old and on his fourth wife.”

“You’re mistaken. Lord Vilgot is recently widowed.”

My throat went dry. The pennants snapped, the cloth licking at the sky like tongues as the wind swept around the tower.

“Father,” I said carefully, “I won’t marry Lord Vilgot.”And wait to become his next victim.None of Vilgot’s wives had given him a child. Each time he buried a former Lady of Midpeak, his mourning period grew shorter.

“Yes, you will,” my father said, his mouth a grim slash. “I’ve already signed the betrothal contract. Lord Vilgot and his party are en route to Purecliff as we speak. You’ll wed him the moment he arrives.”

My mind raced as the bars of my father’s prison closed around me. Instinctively, I looked for a shadow to slip into.

“No,” my father snarled, grasping my shoulder again. He hauled me onto my toes and thrust his golden fist under my jaw, forcing my chin up. “Your willfulness is at an end, Mirella. If you even think about running, I’ll find you. There is nowhere in Andulum you can hide. And when I find you, I’ll bring you back to Purecliff and fill your room with so much light, the time you spent in Nordlinga’s dungeon will seem like a birthday banquet.”

My gasp caught in my throat.He knows.My father knewexactlywhat I’d endured at Lorsten Hallerson’s hands. The lamps. The heat from a hundred burning wicks. The prison of light that burned my eyes until tears streamed down my face. The gnawing hunger. The stench of my own sweat.

My father nodded, my pale face reflected in his icy eyes. “I saw.”

“And you didn’t help me,” I said through numb lips. His gift was stronger than mine. He could run the shadows from one side of Eftar to the other in minutes. He could pull shadows around him like a cloak and stay hidden whenever he wished.

And he’d stood just out of sight in Nordlinga and watched as Lorsten Hallerson kept me bound in light like an animal.

My father released me. He stepped back, lowering his golden fist to his side. With his left hand, he straightened his embroidered jacket and the costly chain around his neck.“You needed to learn,” he said, his tone almost polite. “You’ve been protected at Purecliff. Insulated from the hatred the humans have for us. There’s a difference between reading about something and experiencing it for yourself.”

“We’re human, too,” I said, my voice hoarse in my ears.

He shook his head. “We will always be more. We have power other men don’t possess. And when men encounter power they can’t control, they grow to despise it.”

The shock of his betrayal faded, replaced with something hard and far colder than the air in Nordlinga. “Like you despise me?” I challenged.

A slow, indulgent smile curved my father’s lips. “Oh, Mirella. We both know I’m more than capable of controlling you.”

The wind howled around the tower. More numbness crept through me, rooting me to the stones under my feet. It was futile to argue. My father’s magic was stronger than mine. If I ran, he would hunt me down and deliver on his threats.

Obviously interpreting my silence for defeat, he strode to the shadows cast by the battlements. “Return to your room, Daughter. When Lord Vilgot arrives, you will greet him as an honored guest. In the meantime, I suggest you prepare for your marriage.”

He disappeared, leaving me alone with the wind and his ultimatum. My jaw ached from the unforgiving pressure of his fist. Sunlight spread over the tower. In the distance, the Covenant glowed a deeper blue against the sky. A bird swept across the valley, its wings wide. It wasn’t the starling I’d healed, but it was just as free. Somewhere at the bottom of the valley, a river flowed. The tower was too high for me to see the water, but I knew it was there.

My heart pumped faster, and a strange buzzing sound filled my head. Without being wholly conscious of what I was doing, I lurched toward the battlements.

Wind gusted, sending hair across my face. The odd buzzing stopped, and I pressed a palm to my chest as I drew deep, ragged breaths. The solution to my problem didn’t lie at the bottom of the valley.

With fresh resolve, I crossed to the shadows and stepped into them. Darkness enveloped me, long ribbons of shadow sliding over my skin like silk. Power pulsed in my veins, guiding me to the next puddle of darkness. Step by step, I made my way through the fortress, moving in and out of corners and alcoves. Hidden nooks. Tight, dusty closets and twists in staircases no one ever noticed.

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