Page 81 of Bound to the Shadow Queen
“There’s something trying to get through the wards, and something about that is niggling at me.” Maybe in another life, it wouldn’t have been my problem, but even then, I wasn’t sure I could have sat by and done nothing.
Even if Wynnie wasn’t here, there were Nevara and Soren, not to mention innocent people in this palace, villagers taking refuge here.
And Draven.
Wynnie swallowed, then took a deep breath. “Well, you probably know more about monsters than most people alive.”
“I had a lot of time to study,” I reminded her in a wry tone.
Guilt flickered across her features. “I know.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
Though my time had been freed up when she left. I couldn’t deny that the long, lonely hours in the estate had taken their toll, but that sure as shards hadn’t been Wynnie’s fault.
She tilted her head back, staring at the ceiling. “I know you didn’t, but that doesn’t mean I can’t hate the way that I abandoned you.”
“You had no choice.” Literally. There had been an obedience clause in her marriage vows, something that made me just a bit less sorry about the end Yorrick met.
She nodded quietly. Before she could spiral into any more guilt, I shuffled over on the bed to nudge her arm with mine.
“So tell me about the monsters.”
I hadn’t spentmuch time in my study since my return. Once Wynnie had come, we filled the days with talking. Even in our pockets of silence, I hadn’t wanted to ignore her for my books, especially when it brought back memories of the long hours I had spent missing her from the estate after she left.
Now, though, I needed to research the monsters.
When Mirelda returned with Batty and Lumen in tow, I asked her to call books on Frostbeasts for me. After only a slight wrinkling of her nose at my unladylike choice of reading, she obliged me.
Wynnie assured me she could keep herself plenty busy examining the contents of my closet, so I disappeared into the small space, my wolf at my feet and my skathryn poking curiously through the stacks.
Draven found me there, poring over ancient tomes. I was half hoping I wouldn’t have to see him today, after the murky events of the night before, but I was itching to be reunited with my dagger.
As always, his power rolled into the room before he did, humming along my skin. I used the convenient excuse of my book to pretend I hadn’t noticed him until he sat my dagger on the only open space on the desk.
It landed with a clink. Was he trying not to disturb me? Or trying not to accidentally touch me?
I glanced from the weapon to his face, swallowing when I realized he was freshly out of the bath. His silver-blond locks were several shades darker when they were damp, just as they had been the last time I had seen him just out of the tub.
When I had begged him to take me to my sister. When he had agreed, with little rhyme or reason.
I had been so desperate then, I had never really stopped to consider why. Or maybe I just hadn’t wanted to consider it because I had known that it could never be real.
He turned to go when I didn’t say anything, and I felt myself speaking before I could stop.
“Why did you take me to Wynnie’s that day?” The question tumbled from my lips unbidden, before I could consider how pointless it was.
All of that, taking me to my sister’s, tracing my scars, getting on his frost-damned knees to pull the monster flesh from my hair. Those were for her—the Seelie wife he had thought he had.
The iced-shut windows were for the half-Unseelie wife he actually had.
Everything went still. Draven, the air, even his mana was uncharacteristically subdued, like the room was holding its breath for whatever answer he would give. Or perhaps that was only me.
Finally, he spoke without turning around. “You were my wife. That didn’t mean nothing to me.”
My lips parted, but for a change, no words emerged. Was I imagining the bare implication that it had meant nothing to me?
Then there was his use of past tense. If I had been his wife before, what did that make me now?
