Page 58 of Bound to the Shadow Queen
With my free hand, I gestured to the door, which had shut behind her with an ominous twist of the lock.
Her expression hardened, her bright blue gaze narrowing in on the door handle.
“We’ll see about that,” she said before taking a better look around. “But there are certainly worse prisons to be trapped— What is making that sound?”
I had become so accustomed to Batty’s trilling that it took me a moment to realize the high-pitched squeak of surprise was, in fact, coming from my skathryn.
“Oh, that’s just… Batty.”
Wynnie quirked a delicate white eyebrow. “Batty?”
I nodded. “My skathryn...”
She blinked slowly as I pulled back my sleeve to reveal the tiny frostbat clinging to my wrist.
“Your…skathryn,” she echoed, taking a single step backward without letting go of my hand. “Who is…very much…”
“Venomous, yes, I do know, but she saves those tendencies for people who irritate her.”
Batty let out a grumpy squawk of agreement, her onyx eyes narrowing at my sister before she burrowed her face deeper into my sleeve.
“Well, that’s very comforting then.” Wynnie chuckled, shaking back the pale, spiral curls still stiff with crusted blood. “You do seem to have an affinity for deadly things these days.”
There was an undertone in her voice, something sharper than teasing. She wasn’t talking about hearsay or reputation…she meant Draven.
But before I could form a reply, something lanced through me.
A prickle swept down my spine, sharp as claws scraping along bone. My vision flickered, the edges dimming in and out, as though the world itself had faltered for the span of a heartbeat. The sensation was cold and wrong, heavy enough to hollow out my chest, and somehow tugging at the same part of me that could feel my husband’s mana.
I blinked hard, sucking in a breath, but when my gaze darted to Wynnie, she was still smiling faintly, utterly untouched.
She hadn’t felt it.
Was it exhaustion? My mind playing tricks? Or had the horrors carved into me by Kyros twisted something deeper—left echoes in my bones that wouldn’t fade?
Wynnie gave my hand a comforting squeeze before dropping it. “Now, how about you give me a tour of our dungeon? Or at least show me where the bath is?”
I forced a shaky laugh, shoving the lingering dread down where she wouldn’t see it. “Sorry, I know you’re tired.”
“I am…” she gave a small, pointed sniff, her nose wrinkling. “But I meant for you.”
I convincedWynnie to get into the bath first. She argued all the way into the bathing chamber until her eyes landed on the glorious tub. Then her mana was moving faster than I had time to explain, already calling for the steaming water to fill the marble bath.
I pulled oils and soaps from the cabinet, choosing scents I knew she would prefer, before adding them to the water.
Her eyes were as big as saucers as she stared longingly down at the bubbles, while I tugged at the laces of her gown. The fabric fell heavy to the floor, and I unwound the bandage from her arm with careful fingers.
She flinched, the smallest jerk, but it was enough to hollow out my chest.
Alaric’s death flashed behind my eyes, the way his body had spasmed, shredded by ice. Wynnie had flinched then, too. Flinched away from an explosion of ice.
My stomach lurched. The words tore out before I could stop them.
“Did he…” I braced myself. “Hurt you? Did Draven?”
I could hardly force the question past my lips. I knew he was a monster in his own right, that he had used the threat of my sister against me, but keeping her in the dungeon was still not the same as torturing her.
Wynnie shimmied out of her undergarments before slipping into the steaming bath with a hiss of breath. It was only then that she seemed to register my question.
