Page 45 of Bound In Shadow

I laugh bitterly, tears threatening. “Fought them or secured me for your own ends? You might only want me alive to show the council your ‘dominion’ over a rebellious human.”

He curses under his breath, stepping closer. “I gave you free access to my domain, let the wards recognize you. We formed a plan together to spare the farmland. I risk open rebellion with my own people to keep you safe, and you repay me by sneaking away?”

My throat tightens. I see the flicker of genuine hurt beneath his anger, and it pierces me. But fear and pride surge again. “Because I can’t rely on your good graces alone. My life, my people’s lives, are at stake!”

He rakes a hand through his silver hair, war sigils stark on his forearms. “Damn it, Lysandra. If you’d succeeded in leaving the fortress, or contacting your rebel allies behind my back, the council would clamp down. They’d label you a traitor?—”

I bristle. “I already am a traitor in their eyes!”

His voice lowers to a rough edge. “You have no idea how close they are to discovering your sirenblood. If they see you defying me, they’ll start asking questions, pushing for interrogations. One slip, and we’re both undone.”

His words cut deep. I recall the illusions, the enthrallment, the secret we share.He’s not just protecting me from anassassin. He’s protecting me from the entire Dark Elf system that hunts sirens.

Trembling, I drop my gaze. “I… I couldn’t just sit idle. My allies might suspect I’ve joined you willingly, that I sold them out. If they try to fight back, more blood is spilled.”

A pained silence descends. He inhales sharply, wrestling with his temper. Finally, he nods, just once. “I understand your desperation. But you must see that running off like this endangers everything we’ve built.”

I exhale, tears threatening again. “I’m sorry.” It’s a whisper, a concession that pains me. “I was reckless.”

He steps closer, still bristling with anger, but it’s tempered by concern. “Yes, you were. That doesn’t make me any less furious.”

I swallow hard, meeting his gaze. “You’re furious? I nearly died out there.”

He flinches as though struck, a raw emotion flickering in his eyes. “Exactly. If I’d arrived a moment later…” He trails off, voice catching. “You’d be gone.”

My heart twists. For a moment, we stand locked in this tension, both breathing fast. The memory of last night’s intimacy stirs, but we’re overshadowed by the fear and betrayal of this morning.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, visibly reining himself in. “The council meets soon. We can’t appear at odds. If they sense a rift, they’ll exploit it.”

I close my eyes, the weight of our predicament crashing over me.He’s right. If we walk in disunited, they’ll suspect something.“So we pretend everything is fine?”

His jaw clenches. “We do. We present the farmland plan, show them you’re under control. Then, hopefully, we buy enough time to secure your rebels and keep your secret locked away.”

I want to trust him. Need to, perhaps. But the sting of shame from my escape attempt lingers, along with the knowledge that he’s as dangerous as any assassin. Maybe he saved me, but that doesn’t mean we’re on solid ground.

He opens the door to the storeroom, letting me pass. Guards rush up, alarmed, but he waves them off. I sense them exchanging uncertain looks, no doubt noticing the tension radiating between us. If they suspect a fracturing alliance, they’ll whisper it to the council.We can’t let that happen.

In silence, we return to his private wing. The corridors feel claustrophobic. Every step screams at me that the council session is imminent, that I must play the obedient captive or doom us all. My earlier defiance weighs heavy on my shoulders, spurring a flicker of resentment.

Once we’re inside the antechamber, he rounds on me. “Stay here. I’ll gather the final documents. Then we’ll head to the council hall together.”

I nod stiffly. “Fine.”

He hesitates, as though wanting to speak further, then turns away, cloak swirling around his ankles as he strides off. The door closes behind him, wards sealing me in yet again. This time, I feel their presence as an accusation—you tried to run, you nearly died, and now you’re locked up for your own good.

I slump onto a small settee, covering my face with my hand. My mind replays the assassin’s blade at my throat, Xelith’s furious charge into the courtyard. The swirl of betrayal in his eyes.Why does it hurt so much to see him disappointed?

Time crawls. Eventually, the door opens. He reenters, expression composed but distant, documents clutched under one arm. “It’s time.”

I rise, swallowing a surge of dread. “All right. I’ll follow your lead.”

He nods, but the warmth from last night is gone. We step into the corridor where a contingent of guards awaits. They form a protective ring, guiding us through the fortress’s winding passages. My heart pounds.If we fail, I’ll be handed over or executed. If I succeed, I remain bound to a precarious alliance with a man I can’t fully trust.

The halls transition from the quieter private wing to the more opulent corridors near the main council chamber. I glimpse robed figures, lesser nobles hurrying along. Sharp glances flick our way. I keep my chin up, feigning stoic compliance.

We reach the double doors leading into a grand, circular room. Torches blaze in wall sconces, illuminating a floor mosaic depicting the Thirteen gods. Council members occupy ornate chairs arranged in a wide arc. Nobles cluster behind them, forming a ring of curious, judgmental onlookers.

A hush falls as we enter. My stomach twists.All or nothing.Xelith tenses beside me, expression schooled into cool confidence. He leads me forward until we stand at the center of the marble floor. The weight of dozens of eyes presses on me.

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