Page 35 of Bound In Shadow

A strange pulse ripples in my throat. My vision narrows. A wave of dizzying heat explodes behind my eyes, as though my blood ignites from within. I can’t hold it back. The air crackles around us, mana-lamps sputtering in response.

Nyrus’s gaze flutters, his lips parting. “What…?”

My heart pounds. I sense a current of energy swirling in the room, tethered to me. The shelves, the dusty scrolls—everything seems to blur at the edges. And Nyrus stands at the center of my focus, eyes flickering with confusion, enthrallment.

I hear a voice speaking, soft and compelling.My voice, but layered with a resonance I’ve never heard before. “Leave me alone,” I murmur, yet it echoes as if amplified by magic. “You will forget this conversation. You will walk away.”

He makes a choked sound, pupils dilating. For a terrifying instant, I see the reflection of my own eyes in his—dark, swirling with an inhuman glow. My pulse screams in protest, but I can’t tear myself away.

Slowly, as if in a trance, Nyrus staggers back. His expression goes slack, arms falling to his sides. The lamp above us flickers violently, arcs of mana dancing along its metal base.

I gulp air, limbs shaking.What am I doing?The wave of enthrallment intensifies, and I watch, horrified yet transfixed, as Nyrus’s arrogance melts into a docile blankness. He blinks sluggishly, teetering on his feet.

“Go,” I repeat, desperation coloring my tone. Another wave of that intangible force pulses from my throat. “Just… go.”

He turns woodenly, stumbling toward the door. The handle clanks, and he disappears into the corridor. My breath explodes in a ragged gasp, knees threatening to buckle. The swirl of heat recedes, leaving me lightheaded. I slump against the shelf, mind reeling.

I enthralled him. I actually forced him to obey.A roiling mixture of triumph and horror churns in my gut. My voice pulses with raw magic I can’t control.Am I monstrous? Or is this the key to my freedom?

A noise jolts me. Footsteps—heavier than Nyrus’s—echo outside. I brace, fear pounding in my temples. Then the door cracks open, revealing Xelith. He halts in the doorway, cloak draped around his shoulders. His gaze sweeps the room, landing on me as I tremble by the shelves.

“What happened?” he demands, voice low and urgent.

I swallow, still dizzy. “Nyrus. He—he cornered me. He wanted proof of my magic.” The words tumble out in a breathless rush.

His silver eyes widen. “Your illusions? Did you?—?”

I shake my head, tears threatening. “It wasn’t illusions. I… I enthralled him. He walked away like a puppet.”

Xelith curses under his breath, crossing the space in two strides. He grips my shoulders, forced calm washing over his features even as tension lines his jaw. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?” He runs a quick glance over me, as if checking for bruises.

I exhale shakily. “No, but… gods, Xelith, Icommandedhim. He had no choice.”

His grip tightens, mouth grim. “Listen to me. He won’t remember, yes?” He shakes me a little, gaze piercing. “You told him to forget?”

My voice quivers. “I think so. I said something… it came out like an order. He just obeyed.”

A surge of relief passes across his face. “Good. Then maybe he’ll wander about dazed, not sure what happened.” He breathes out, still holding me steady. “But we must move carefully. If he recovers any memory, the council will be unstoppable.”

My stomach flips. “I don’t understand. How can I enthrall someone? That’s not… human. That’s—” I catch myself, recalling the rumors of sirens, the horrifying notion that I might share their blood.

Xelith’s expression darkens, as though reading my thoughts. “No. It’s not human. And it’s not typical sorcery either.” He steps back, hands sliding from my shoulders. I feel abruptly cold without his touch. “We need answers. Now.”

My throat constricts. “You suspect sirenblood, don’t you?”

He hesitates, glancing at the door. “This isn’t the place to discuss it. Too many ears.” He grabs my wrist—not painfully, but insistently. “Come.”

I follow numbly, heart still hammering. We slip into the corridor. No sign of Nyrus or the guards. My illusions or enthrallment must have scattered them. Xelith leads me down a back passage I haven’t traversed before, quickening his pace with each step. Tapestries blur at the corners of my vision, mana-lamps buzzing overhead. My limbs tremble from the aftermath of that strange power.Is it truly sirenblood?

At last, we reach a heavy door carved with swirling runes reminiscent of House Vaeranthe’s crest. Xelith murmurs a spell, palm pressed to the latch. The wards hiss, unlocking. Beyond liesa small chamber lined with shelves stuffed with tomes, crystals, and curious relics. A single table stands in the center, lit by a softly glowing orb suspended overhead.

Xelith closes the door behind us, wards flaring in place again. Silence envelops us, broken only by my ragged breathing. I scan the shelves—some hold ancient texts scrawled in a script I can’t read, others store items that glisten with dormant magic.

He paces toward one shelf, rummaging through the volumes. I remain near the door, arms wrapped around myself in a futile attempt to steady. My mind spins.I enthralled an official. If the council finds out, I’m done for. If I truly am sirenborn…

At last, Xelith extracts a weathered tome bound in black leather, inscribed with archaic symbols. He flips through the pages, scanning them with intense focus. “My father collected lore on extinct species. The council once used this volume to track potential threats.” He finds a section and places the book on the table. “Come.”

I approach warily, staring at the faded ink. The text is in a flowing, archaic dialect, dotted with sketches. I see haunting silhouettes—a woman with elongated vocal cords, an aura swirling around her throat. My blood runs cold.

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