Page 49 of Bound to the Shadow Queen
Why would she do that?
I must have spoken the words aloud because he shook his head. “I don’t know. Nor do I know why she brought down the wards or allowed me to take you without a fight.”
Had she known it was a fight she couldn’t win? Not been willing to risk both the Shadow and Stormbreak clans at the other end of the Frostgrave King’s wrath, or risk that her daughter would be caught in the crossfire?
Or was there more danger in the Wilds than I understood?
“So you aren’t aware of what’s inside this necklace?” His low, dangerous tone pulled me from my spiraling questions.
“What?”
A muscle worked in his jaw. He crossed the room in four long strides. He held out the amulet, running his thumb over its edge, along a tiny, invisible hinge.
Violet light burst free from the necklace, nearly blinding with its intensity. I reared back before forcing myself to look again. Beyond the light, there was something darker. Much darker.
Now that my eyes adjusted, I could see another crystal… No. This was different. A prismatic shard with jagged edges rested in the center. Smoke curled out around it, reaching, stretching toward me, like fingers beckoning me closer.
My breath stalled in my chest. Power poured from the shard, not mana in any form that I knew it. But raw, undiluted, chaotic power that pulsed with an ancient energy. Not quite malevolent, but entirely absent of the Shard Mother’s warmth.
And it called to me.
I stretched out my hand, transfixed by the way it seemed to be…waiting for me. Pulling me in. Demanding my presence, even.
The room around me flickered in and out of existence, the light fading just as surely as the sound of Draven’s voice. But I didn’t care. I needed?—
Then the locket snapped shut, and I blinked several times. The room around me came back into focus, along with Draven’s furious features.
More than angry, something urgent and…alarmed coursed through his mana.
“What in the shards-forsaken hells was that?”
“I…don’t know.”
He returned the necklace to his pocket. And now that I was no longer under its spell, I couldn’t help but think that was for the best.
Everly
Even Batty’spresence at my side wasn’t enough to make me drift off to sleep when the darkness held nothing but monsters and a chill I couldn’t seem to shake.
That was without the visceral images of exploding frostbeasts or the inexplicable tug toward the north, both of which I could assume were courtesy of my marriage bond.
So I laid awake, tracking the slow descent of the sun through my window until the healer’s soft knock sounded on the door. He brought more dumpling soup, and I had it on the tip of my tongue to ask him to run a bath or light the fire for me.
But he already knew about my wings. I didn’t want to answer questions about my mana, too.
He stayed to watch me finish my food this time, rising to leave only when the bowl was empty.
“Remember that your body still needs to rest,” he said quietly, placing a small vial on the table, then letting himself out the doors. I picked it up once I was alone, uncorking it to sniff the contents. It was sweet, and faintly rose scented, like Wynnie’s sleep tonics.
A wave of mana washed over me from the hallway, tinged with ice and bitterness. I braced myself for footsteps, but the source stayed where it was.
It was strange how much more clearly I could pinpoint him now, like the distance had somehow honed something in our connection. More ties we couldn’t escape.
My grip tightened around the vial, and I tipped it backward, swallowing the tonic in a single gulp. A shiver coursed through me.
Batty chirped softly, nestling into my neck, offering me what little warmth she could. Between her and the potent tonic, sleep claimed me at last, a fitful slumber interspersed with shared memories that morphed to nightmares.
Or perhaps they had always been one in the same..
