Page 80 of Bound to the Shadow Queen
Wait. No.
Not the room. Just my head.
My head was on fire, and my insides were…
I shot out of bed and raced for the lavatory, making it just in time to fall to my knees and purge the meager contents of my stomach. Which was mostly sour Emberkiss whiskey.
“Noooo,” a voice said weakly. “You know I will sympathy vomit.”
My sister lay on the floor, her face pressed against the marble, her bronze skin several shades paler than it should have been.
“I’m quite certain it would be from more than sympathy, my lady,” Mirelda’s dry tone cut in as she swept into the lavatory. “Here, drink this.”
Wynnie murmured something in gratitude while I rinsed my mouth out, avoiding the sight of my ghoulish skin and wayward waves in the mirror. When I finally made my way back to the bedroom on slow, cautious steps, Mirelda waited with a vial of tonic and an only mildly judgmental expression.
I uncorked it, gagging all over again at the pungent odor that wafted out.
“Just plug your nose, Evy,” Wynnie suggested. “It works.”
Seeing that my sister had a spot of color to her cheeks, I followed her instructions, barely choking down the viscous syrup.
“And eat your crackers,” Mirelda added primly.
My mouth still felt like sandpaper, but there was a cool glass of water next to the plate on my bedside table, so I nodded reluctantly before I climbed back into bed and wrapped myself back in several layers of fur.
The fire roared higher in time with Mirelda’s tutting sound. Then her footsteps receded, along with the padding of wolf paws, and the door clicked shut behind her. She must be letting Batty out for the morning, and Lumen as well.
A small surge of panic overtook me when I remembered the night before. The wards. Draven’s mana emanated from the room next to mine. He was just on the other side of the door, likely still in his bed, but close.
Whatever else could be said, he had made it clear that he had no intention of letting me die.
I took a breath, trying to think past the nausea that was, admittedly, subsiding in the wake of the disgusting tonic. What had he said last night?
I had hazy memories of his grip searing into my skin, his frosted green eyes boring into mine.
Something far worse.
“Wynnie.” My voice was abrupt in the silence, and she reared back on her pillow.
“What is it?”
“Sorry,” I continued at a lower volume. “Did you come across anything weird on the way here?”
She blinked several times, then put her finger thoughtfully to her lips. “You mean like lots of mostly-eaten fae or a secret rune portal that led to the Wilds or a fae with shining silver eyes who rides her own shards-damned holy griffon?”
Well, when she puts it that way…“Point taken, but I actually meant monsters.”
She nestled back into her pillow. “Is this for your compendium?”
I let out what was almost a laugh, or would have been if I wasn’t terrified at the idea of a monster that even gave Draven pause. “No, I had forgotten all about that, actually.”
Though my drawing skills left much to be desired, I had indeed been sketching out a compendium, frustrated with the scattered bits and pieces of information spread out through far too many books.
“What’s going on?” My sister looked more serious now.
I paused, taking in the skin that was still too pale, the eyes that were perpetually tired. I didn’t want to add to her worries.
But we had promised honesty always.
