Page 19 of Bound to the Shadow Queen
The single word cut through the din like a blade.
The battle faltered. Blades held high but unmoving, everyone frozen in the wake of the powerful wave of utterly familiar mana. My feet, too, were rooted to the ground, all at once too heavy to move.
I had forgotten somehow, how powerful my mother was. There was a reason she had been chosen as thestellariof our clan.
She was still here. Still safe. Still alive.
And she had frozen me along with the rest of the fae, but I wasn’t about to draw her attention to my nightgown-clad presence when I had already barreled out here without a single shred of a plan, against every lesson she had ever taught me.
She glided to the ground, holding the fae easily in her grasp as my uncle strode out to join her. I stood frozen outside the doorway, watching the furious faces of the unmoving Skaldwings in the courtyard.
“We give you access to our wards, and this is how you repay us?” Her voice was quiet steel as she scanned their faces, her lips pursing when her gaze landed on me.
“I couldn’t agree more,StellariMirevyn.” The voice came from overhead, a calm baritone edged with a warmth that might have been kindness or fury. “Please accept my apologies for my brother’s rashness.”
The owner of the voice stepped forward into the sun’s morning glow. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and utterly sure of the space he claimed. His wings were darker than the rest, the surface gleaming like polished basalt, shot through with pale striations like veins of quartz running through stone.
His face was all sharp lines and rugged edges, his jaw dusted with stubble that caught the fading light of dawn. He was objectively handsome, even if my ring seemed to burn with objection to the analysis.
The oppressive weight of my mother’s mana lifted, and we were able to move again.
An identical figure strode next to the one who had spoken. But where the first male was assured, the second was cocky, his chest puffed out, golden eyes gleaming with arrogance. A single onyx earring graced the pointed tip of his ear.
“What?” he scoffed. “You said you wanted to pay them a visit.”
“Yes, Kyros. Obviously, I should have assumed you would take that as a call to attack while they were sleeping.”
Kyros shrugged. “They shouldn’t have insulted our clan.”
“Better an insult than a blood feud,” the first one hissed.
“I couldn’t agree more, Thane Kaelen.” There was a clear threat in my uncle’s tone.
Thane?
I felt it then, the steady waves of his mana washing over the courtyard. Almost curious, like it was...looking for something. I realized a heartbeat too late what that something might be, right about the time his eyes landed on me.
He swept his gaze from the tips of my wings down to the blade clenched in my fist. There was interest there, bold and unashamed, but not the sneering disdain I had braced myself for.
My mother stepped toward me without glancing my way, proving that it was foolish of me to think I could evade her notice. “There was no insult. We hadn’t alerted any of the clans, as my daughter required time to recover.”
Kyros followed his brother’s stare, letting out another scoff.
“While I won’t deny I can see the need…” He looked pointedly from my bare feet to the nightshirt I hadn’t even bothered to lace. “It was an interesting decision, given the urgency you claim, Thane Vaerin. And I think we can all agree the other clans were never a real consideration. Unless, of course, there are eligible Thanes hiding in their midst.”
His voice was smarm incarnate, his smirk worse, but I couldn’t muster the energy to scowl at him. Not when my mind reeled around one word.
Eligible.
“This is who you wanted to gift me to?” My voice cracked sharper than I intended. “Why you saved me?” For anotherThane. Another male who was powerful enough to make my uncle tread carefully.
“Of course not, Everly.” My mother’s voice was like a whip. “No one is forcing you into anything”
My uncle’s calculating gaze suggested otherwise.
I opened my mouth to protest when Kaelen stepped closer, moving with the inherent speed of a warrior.
“I hope you have a good drink to go with the show you’re putting on.” His voice was pitched low, his teasing smile absent the malice of his brother’s smirk.
