Page 47 of Bound In Shadow

The ground feels like it drops out from under me.Inquisitors.I recall horrifying rumors of Dark Elf inquisitions, where they pry out secrets with arcane torment.

Xelith’s voice sharpens. “That’s unnecessary. We have no proof she wields any magic. Moreover, I’m her keeper. If she did attempt to flee, I handled it. Let us not overshadow the farmland plan with baseless fears.”

Nyrus sniffs, unconvinced. But Sharavel waves him off. “We have a compromise. Three days. If by then we detect further suspicious activity—attempts to flee, illusions, or enthrallment—this woman is ours, no questions asked. Understood?”

My mouth is dry. I glance at Xelith. He nods curtly, though rage simmers in his eyes. “Understood.”

The council breaks into side conversations, ignoring us. Xelith grips my arm, steering me from the center of the chamber. My knees wobble.Three days. If anything goes awry, I’m delivered to their inquisitors.

We exit into the corridor, tension thrumming. He exhales shakily. “That was close. If Nyrus had pressed further?—”

I pull free of his grasp, anger and fear swirling. “He knows enough to damn me. He wants me gone.”

Xelith’s jaw clenches. “Yes. And you nearly confirmed his suspicions by sneaking off. Do you see now why I demanded you stay close? Your betrayal?—”

My heart clenches. “Betrayal? I just needed to confirm who’s truly on my side.”

He scoffs, voice harsh with wounded pride. “And you suspect me, after all I’ve risked. You don’t see that by defying me, you hand ammunition to Nyrus.”

Tears threaten, but I refuse to show weakness. “I never asked for your rescue. Or for that… that moment last night.” My words come out more vicious than intended, laced with hurt.

He flinches. “Then blame me all you want. But understand: we’re out of time. In three days, the council expects results. If anything else jeopardizes their tenuous trust, they’ll tear you apart.”

My hands shake. “So what now? You keep me chained to your side, parading me around as docile, while we scramble to subdue the farmland enclaves?”

He exhales, shifting from rage to resignation. “Yes. That’s exactly what must happen. There’s no other option.”

Silence envelops us. I see the flicker of raw emotion in his eyes—anger, desperation, maybe heartbreak.We shared amoment that felt real, but now it’s twisted into suspicion and blame.

Guards approach, posture tense. One announces that the farmland arrangement is set to begin by tomorrow, requiring Xelith’s direct oversight. He nods, ordering them to start mobilizing. Then he looks at me with a weary expression. “Come on. Let’s return to my wing.”

I want to scream that he can’t confine me again. But a part of me knows it might be the only safe place. My attempt to leave ended with an assassin’s blade at my throat.And now the council practically wants me gagged.

We walk in taut silence, passing lords and courtiers who eye us warily. My chest feels hollow.All is lost.The fragile bond we forged—through that desperate intimacy—seems shattered. He views my attempt to leave as a betrayal. I see his iron grip as a threat to my freedom.

By the time we reach his private corridor, I’m trembling with exhaustion. The guards stationed outside glance at me, then quickly avert their eyes.They must sense the rift between us.

Inside, Xelith slams the door, wards flickering. We face each other in the lamp-lit hush, anger simmering. Part of me craves to fling myself at him again—either in fury or reckless desire. But neither would solve anything.

He crosses his arms, voice taut. “Until we finalize the farmland mission, you stay here. No wandering. No messages. Nothing.”

A dull ache spreads in my chest. “So I’m your prisoner again.”

He doesn’t deny it. “For your own good, and for mine.”

Tears sting my eyes, but I blink them away.It’s come to this—a standoff.The memory of last night’s closeness feels like a cruel joke.

He turns away, leaving me standing in the center of the room, heart pounding. “I need to prepare the troops. A fewhours, then we ride out. With luck, we’ll salvage your enclaves and keep the council from your throat.”

I watch him go, the door closing behind him in a final, cold thud. My hands ball into fists.All is lost, indeed.I’m stuck in a fortress of enemies, reliant on a prince who might still betray me if it secures his throne. The illusions and enthrallment weigh like a ticking bomb, and the farmland enclaves rest on the brink of negotiation or massacre.

I sink onto the nearest chair, holding my head. My chest feels hollow and bruised—emotions roiling from the jarring shift between last night’s heated union and this morning’s revelations. If we fail, I face a certain, brutal end at the council’s hands. If we succeed, I remain a captive to a fragile alliance.

Either way, my hope of genuine freedom feels so far away.

A tear slips down my cheek, and I let it fall unnoticed. For all my defiance, I’m trapped in the webs of Dark Elf power struggles, sirenblood secrets, and a twisted half-relationship with a man I might hate as much as I want him.

That knowledge sinks like a stone in my gut, pressing me deeper into despair.We’re both drowning, and we might drag each other under.Yet I can’t forget the way he stormed that courtyard to save me, nor the raw anger in his voice at my reckless escape.Does he truly care, or does he just need me alive to keep his own plans afloat?

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