Page 2 of Bound to the Shadow Queen
I downed the liquid in one go, not dropping her gaze. “What is it you want?”
She lifted her chin. “You will promise not to hurt her, and in exchange, I will tell you everything I know about where to find her.”
“So you don’t know where she is,” I said flatly.
Her shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “I know more than you do.”
It was harder than it should have been to hold her challenging gaze, too reminiscent of all the stalemates I’d been forced into with her sister.
Harder still to admit that she was my best source of information, especially when my sworn Visionary was the one who had put us in this shards-damned mess to begin with. Nevara’s betrayal was the last thing I wanted to think about right now.
Torture was always an option, but she would be slow to break—if she broke at all. Time was a luxury I didn’t have. The Wildswere vast, chaotic territories, with mana steeped into the nature itself, designed to mislead Seelie fae, to say nothing of the wards.
There was a reason I hadn’t already led an army to wipe out the remainder of the Skaldwings. I needed more information.
“I promise not to kill her,” I countered Noerwyn’s offer.
Unlike my darling Unseelie wife, I wasn’t a liar, certainly not where vows came into play. I couldn’t kill her—that much Nevara had said outright. While she could be cryptic as all hells, she couldn’t outright lie to me.
But nothing was certain enough for me to guarantee that my wife would never be hurt by me.
A muscle feathered in Noerwyn’s jaw, her features hardening as she processed the distinction I had offered. I held her gaze, letting her see the savagery in my own. I would give her this bargain, but if she pushed me too far, I would damned well find another way to get what I needed.
She nodded like she heard what I didn’t say, a single furious dip of her chin. Then she held out her hand, signifying her willingness, however reluctant.
I grasped it with my own, and waves of mana swept over us, sealing me into my second vow with an Elarion sister. Somehow, I had the feeling this one would be just as cursed as the first, but I would do whatever I had to in order to find my shards-damned wife. She might have been a traitor, but she was my traitor. My death.
Morta Mea.
I would tear kingdoms apart to bring her back before I let the Unseelie filth keep what belonged to me.
Everly
Blood soaked the stone.
It covered the walls and pooled out from under the doorways.
I tried to breathe, but the air wouldn’t come. My chest was trapped beneath the weight of something heavy, something that clawed at my arms and let out a blood-curdling howl.
Terror flooded my veins as I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out.
I tried again, but a different voice split the air and shattered the Tharnok into a million tiny pieces. Suddenly, I was in my sister’s room, staring down at the monster as it feasted on her husband. Crimson flowed from the gaping wound in his chest in slow, lazy ribbons that stretched across the floor and laced around my boots.
The world tilted. It was burning, or I was. There was only screaming, and shaking, and monsters pouring in through the door and from the windows.
They ran toward my sister’s hiding place in the closet, and all I could do was stare.
Too late. I’m too late.
And then he was there. Perfect features carved from marble. Silver-blond locks falling carelessly onto his brow. Aurora gaze assessing me with intent.
Draven.
He surrounded me in a shield of icy mana. Snow flurries whisked away the blood as his forehead pressed against mine.
His voice silenced the screams. I couldn’t make sense of his words, but I knew the sound of him.
His mana surged through the air like a second heartbeat, shattering the bloody walls until we were surrounded by fresh snow. Until everything glistened like starlight and pristine ice.
