Page 21 of Bound to the Shadow Queen
A choking noise erupted from him, and Kaelen clenched his jaw. Several seconds tipped by while Kyros’ arrogant face turned precariously purple. I was torn between wanting her to stop and hoping he passed out so I didn’t have to hear him finish his sentence, but my uncle solved the conundrum for me.
“Enough, Mire,” he ordered, cold amusement belying the command. “I’m sure everyone in this room understands the consequences of another insult to our clan.”
“We do,” Kaelen said sharply. “Leave us, brother.”
My mother let up, though her face was still pale with fury. Kyros stormed out of the room, leaving a tense silence in his wake.
“What is it?” I asked Kaelen.
It was easier than responding to his question outright. Easier than acknowledging the casual bloodshed that governed the lives of the fae, Seelie and Unseelie alike.
Kaelen turned to me, taking a breath while his brother sputtered in the background.
“The Dragon.”
“No.” My mother’s voice was so sharp it seemed to cut the air. The room darkened with the word, shadows gathering in the corners as the torches guttered in and out.
Power rolled off of her in waves, cold and suffocating, the kind that made seasoned warriors shift in their seats and reminded everyone why my uncle had chosen her as hisstellari.
“I know it’s a risk,” Kaelen’s voice was kind, but there was an undercurrent that was almost…desperate. “But my seer?—”
“Seers are notoriously blind where dragons are concerned,” she said darkly. “But the Dragon is out of the question. Not only would he be just as likely to burn you to ash as help you, no one even knows how to find him, if he even still exists.”
I turned to scrutinize her.
There was something slightly discordant in her tone…the same way she used to sound when she told stories about my father. The one with the crimson wings who died on the front lines, whose siblings I had once called Aunt and Uncle. Who had never been related to me at all.
To prove my point, she didn’t meet my eyes. Instead, she cleared her throat, her fingers rising to briefly rub the amulet around her neck, before running a hand over her warrior’s braid instead.
“Regardless, there is no need to discuss this right now. As my brother has said, we have promised all of the clans equal opportunity. If and when my daughter chooses a mate, we will ensure that the bond is broken.”
She exchanged a look with my uncle, who nodded after a beat.
“Thane Kaelen, I invite the Stormbreak Clan to stay the evening for the purpose of making your case. I’m sure my niece will be more than amenable.”
He didn’t give me a chance to respond before he directed us into the courtyard. I wasn’t foolish enough to push him on this after my slip up mere moments ago. So I allowed Kaelen to escort me out the door, taking his proffered arm with equal parts distraction and dread.
Because I only had one ally in this clan, and now she was doing more than keeping secrets.
She was lying.
Draven
The dayssince the cabin blurred together, village after village, ruin after ruin. Smoke that smelled of hearth fires one morning, charred flesh the next. Every league we rode tasted like ash on my tongue.
With each mile, Noerwyn grew quieter. She only ever answered when I pressed her, like now.
“My father was a drinker,” she said, a low and brittle explanation of how she knew about this hideout. “Most nights, he could barely stand. But in his stupors, he muttered names. Mirevyn most of all. Others I didn’t recognize.”
Her hands tightened on the reins, her breath forming frozen clouds in the thin night air. “Eventually, I forced the truth out of him. He had a way to find Everly’s family—her other family. He could reach them if he wished. But I never did. My sister didn’t want to be found, and I didn’t want to put her in more danger.”
The memory of Everly’s scars edged into my vision, this time on a much smaller frame, each one new, still healing. I forcibly shoved them away.
“The only time I was tempted was when you summoned her to the Winter Palace.” Noerwyn brushed back an errant tuft of silver fur from her deep green cloak, a breath catching inher throat that was half-laugh, half-sigh. “But I never imagined she’d be chosen.”
The comment dripped with accusation.
“Neither did I,” I muttered darkly, the memory touching too close to all the things I refused to think about.
