Page 65 of The Panther's Price

To look into the face of the woman who haunted her name.

To see the Queen with her own eyes. Not through stories. Not filtered through Lucien’s pain.

But face to face.

She needed to know the shape of her enemy. She needed to know what kind of monster Lucien had been carved by. And part of her—quiet and cruel—wanted to prove she wasn’t afraid.

Still, her gut screamed.

The cold on her skin said it plainly.

This wasn’t about politeness or hospitality.

It was a lure.

But if she backed down now, she wouldn’t forgive herself later.

So she nodded, slow and sure. “I won’t go far.”

Lucien’s jaw clenched. His hand twitched at his side like he wanted to grab her and run. “Evryn?—”

She met his eyes, voice steady. “I’ll be fine.”

And for a heartbeat, she almost believed it.

She wasn’t.

The moment she passed the threshold into the east corridor, the servant dropped the act.

The walls blurred. Her limbs weakened.

A spell—subtle, layered into the very stone of the Keep—snared her like a snare catching a wolf’s leg mid-step.

Evryn staggered, shadows rising instinctively around her, but the magic was old. Older than any ward she’d learned to fight. It didn’t blast or burn—itdrained. It pulled.

The servant’s form twisted in the dark, her face warping into something hollow-eyed and sharp-toothed.

Evryn tried to scream. But the world tilted. And everything went black.

She woke in chains. Cold stone beneath her. A circle of blood etched into the floor.

The smell of iron and ash clung to the air.

Selyne stood above her.

Lucien’s mother looked nothing like she expected. No crown. No flowing gown. She wore simple black, tailored for movement, her hair braided tight and looped with silver thread. Her eyes were glacial green—and completely absent of empathy.

“Good morning, Your Majesty,” Evryn rasped.

Selyne crouched, fingers gliding over the rune-carved manacles at Evryn’s wrists.

“You bleed shadow like a natural,” she said. “But the throne-bond lies dormant.”

Evryn bared her teeth. “So you abducted me to play blood seer?”

“No,” Selyne said calmly. “I abducted you tocrackyou open.”

And with a flick of her hand, the blood magic flared.

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