Page 51 of Bound to the Shadow Queen
Batty, however, felt no such hesitation to announce her presence, evidenced by her sharp trill as she flapped into the room behind me.
He let out a bitter scoff. “Like calls to like, I suppose. I always wondered how you had tamed the venomous beast.”
I was already tired of his remarks on my heritage. A shudder rippled down my spine as I suppressed my wings.
“You know perfectly well that I am not part bat, you complete and utter frost twat.”
So much for not saying it out loud.
Though I knew logically he could just as easily torture me shirtless in bed, my mouth didn’t seem to be quite as wary of him like this.
Batty made a soft sound that could only be interpreted as offense, and I patted her head, adding, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
She let out a mollified sort of trill before dive-bombing Draven’s window, raking her claws along the glass with an eardrum-rupturing screech.
I warred between looking pointedly at Draven and jumping in front of Batty to save her from his brewing wrath. A muscle worked in his jaw, and he waved his hand toward her, a jet of mana streaming with the motion.
My lips parted, but the mana bypassed her to the window. It opened the smallest increment, just enough to let out a baby skathryn. My shoulders sagged in relief, and Draven’s jaw feathered again.
He leaned back, muscles flexing as he pushed a silver-blond strand of hair back from his face. My mouth went dry, heat curling through my veins as I forced myself to look away from him.
Damn him for being such an attractive assface. And damn this stupid frost-forsaken ring that refused to let me forget it.
“I’ll return it to your rooms.”
As far as dismissals went, it wasn’t as cutting as it could have been. In fact, he almost sounded…tired. Which made two of us.
“Unless there is something else you need?”
I lingered in the doorway, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my nightgown while I told myself that was not an invitation, and it was especially not one that I was interested in.
My gaze flitted back up to his bare chest, following the ridges of his abdomen for several heartbeats too long before trailing back up to study his face.
Shadows lined his aurora eyes, his moon-kissed skin even paler than usual.
I thought about what the healer said, that Draven had lent his mana to my recovery. Though he had made his reasons more than clear, I couldn’t help but wonder how much it had taken from him.
“How long are you going to keep me locked in those rooms?” I asked once my mind could put some of my racing thoughts into words.
Draven’s throat bobbed, his expression going even colder than it had been a moment ago.
“As long as it takes,” he said. “But lest you get any ideas about trying to go back to your precious Wilds or make contact with the people who are actively attacking my villages, you should know that your sister is arriving today.”
“Wynnie’s coming here?” I said the words in a single breath, relief and apprehension mingling in my gut.
I wanted her with me, obviously, but I didn’t like where he was going with this.
“She is,” he confirmed. “And I’m sure you know the punishment for harboring an Unseelie.”
I did.
Of course I did.
Like everything else associated with the Unseelie in this shards-damned kingdom, it was punishable by death.
Any sympathy I had for his fatigue dissipated like the icy remains of all the people he had tortured. And just like that,everything I said about not being able to watch him die was gone, too. I would kill him myself if he touched my sister.
I would find a way.
