Page 31 of Bound to the Shadow Queen
I examined it more closely, ignoring Noerwyn’s persistent tapping and Nevara’s attempts to get my attention.
Portals were almost unheard of now, and runes this old were not easily accessed. It wasn’t like the patterns in the library, transporting books a short distance away. This would have taken study to understand, more like the ward stones.
What were the chances that they had more than one person in the clan well-versed in this kind of ancient mana?
Running my hand along the rune, I felt it. The rune wasn’t smooth like it would have been if it was accessed this way. The edges were rough and defined, the center hollowed out precisely.
No, of course they didn’t have a whole legion of experts in ancient runes. They didn’t need one if they had a key.
I spun around, searching the remains of the corpses that littered the floor for something with a crystal in it. There, attached to the chain that had been around the neck of the bastard who had helped to kidnap my wife.
The one Nevara had warned me not to kill.
I plucked the crystal from the ground, fitting it into the center of the rune. The chamber groaned, timbers splitting as the portal roared awake.
Noerwyn continued to rage against the wall between us, her voice louder than before as she screamed expletives through the ice.
“Draven,” Nevara said again, her slim hand on my arm. “The future is not linear, and neither is it written in stone. Your hatred can still burn it to the ground.”
I pulled out of her grasp, releasing the cage of ice as I disappeared into the portal.
Nevara could speak of peace from her frosted tower while I tried to salvage the wreckage of all the secrets she kept.
Everly
For the next several hours,I wore a path into the floorboards, pacing until the wood practically groaned in protest. My slippers had rubbed raw blisters into my heels, but sitting still was not an option. Whenever I stopped moving, I’d see it all again.
Alaric’s face. His shredded wings. The spray of bloody snow.
I shook the images away for the hundredth time, but they clung, curling behind my eyes like twisted, thorny vines.
And beneath it all, I couldn’t stop hearing Draven’s voice…
The Unseelie are not capable of love.
Damn him.
Damn him. Damn him. Damn him.
I ran my hands over my face and tucked the few strands of loose hair back into my braids. It wouldn’t be long now. Soon I would have some frost-damned answers, or at the very least, a distraction from my spiraling thoughts.
There had been no real opportunity for Kaelen to answer my question—plea, really—but we had agreed to meet at the training arena during the guard’s shift change. No one would be there this late, and the torches would burn low enough to give us some measure of privacy.
And I needed those answers. Needed to know what he could tell me about the Dragon and whatever bonds they could break before I was forced into another shards-forsaken situation that I had no say in.
Something niggled at the back of my mind.
Was it stupid to trust Kaelen?
WasIstupid for wanting to?
I thought again of the sincerity in his eyes, and the conviction in his words. He seemed genuine. And no one else was offering up any answers… I glanced up at the dragon carving above my mantle.
And for better or worse, my choice was made.
The distant bell clang at Gravemoor Towers marked the hour. It was time.
With a thought, I folded my wings tight, tucking them back beneath my skin, as I did every night before bed.
