Page 25 of Bound to the Shadow Queen
Her dark eyes cut sideways to me.
“Nothing it would benefit you to know.” Her tone was flat, final.
My talons slipped free from my fingers, one by one, frustration curling my hands into fists.
“That isn’t your decision to make,” I growled, my wings snapping open in a single beat.
The glow of the sky poured through them, casting jeweled colors that rippled over her face.
“You’re my child, Everly?—”
“No.” My wings flared again with the word. “I haven’t been a child in a long time.”
She reared back mid-flight as though my words had struck her, her wings jerking in an uneven beat. Guilt knifed through me, sour and immediate, but still I couldn’t bring myself to take it back.
“I’m sorry for the time we won’t get back,” I said, softer now, my wingbeats evening out to match hers. “But you can’t keep pretending I’m still the twelve-year-old girl whose hair you had to dye in secret.”
Her lips parted like she might respond, but Kaelen and my uncle were already gliding closer. Vaerin’s eyes narrowed with unmistakable suspicion.
My mother shook her head, either annoyance at his presence or denial at my words, I couldn’t tell. Then she angled her wings, diving toward the valley floor. Her message was clear.
She wouldn’t give me a chance to corner her again.
Though some of her reasoning might have been keeping an eye on the tensions below. For all I had accused my own clan of being hateful, I hadn’t considered that knowing me as a child might actually have softened them, until I beheld the icy disdain of Kaelen’s people.
Several of the newcomers had physically recoiled from my pale, shimmering wings, and refused to meet my crystal blue eyes. They might have backed down with a warning glare from their Thane, but their distrust was clear all the same, as was the underlying message.
Whatever advantage I might offer to their clan, I was stillother. An enemy.
I considered that as I flew, why he would be willing to choose a bride his people hated. To unite the clans? To lay claim to the Winter Queen, however briefly I held that title?
The questions haunted me as I soared through the air, diving and twisting through the clouds. The wind was sharp and cold as it tore past me, stinging my cheeks and roaring in my ears.
Stretching my wings wide, I cut through the sky, each beat carrying me higher until the ground blurred into nothing but shadowed ground.
For a single fleeting breath, I let go. Let the air hold me the way it once had, before mages and vows and palaces made of ice.
Up here, I wasn’t a pawn or a bride or a Hollow. I wasn’t Seelie or Unseelie. Up here, I was untouchable. Almost free.
Almost.
Then it was time to return to the ground and the shackles of my uncle’s expectations and my mother’s suffocating protection.
That night,we gathered by the massive fire in the courtyard with the Stormbreak Clan.
Kaelen stood off to the side by the campfire, his expression easy as he nodded a silent invitation to join him. Warm golden eyes carefully assessed me as I took a seat next to him on one of the smooth log benches.
Whatever else about this situation that grated on me, it was hard to blame the Skaldwing personally.
I was grateful when Zerina fell back, albeit reluctantly, to stand guard between us and the rest of the village. Maybe it only offered us a semblance of privacy, but it was more than we would have found otherwise.
Flames snapped and crackled as they clawed at the dry logs, sparks drifting upward and fading before they ever touched the stars. Smoke curled low, clinging to my hair and wings.
It was always quieter after supper. The villagers had retreated to their huts, leaving only the night watch in the shield-yard. Warriors sharpened steel with slow, steady strokes, their voices carrying low in the dark. Every now and then, wings beat the air as patrols launched into the night. For the first time all day, it was just us.
Kaelen poured two cups of shadebloom, the bottle of lavender liquor glowing faintly in the firelight. He handed one to me without a word, his eyes on mine as though he were gauging whether I would refuse. I didn’t.
It was Unseelie, through and through. Floral, and effervescent with a dark and bitter aftertaste that somehow made you want more. I drained my glass, relishing the way it washed over my tongue like petals from violets, before wordlessly handing it back for him to refill.
