Page 67 of Bound to the Dreadlord

They fall.

The room stills.

The only thing that remains is her.

Sera kneels before me, chains around her wrists. Blood on her lower lip from where she bit down.

Her eyes lift.

She is not afraid.

She should be.

But the sight of her—bruised, shackled, stolen—does something twisted, dangerous.

I kneel before her, fingers curling around the chains.

They shatter under my grip.

She does not move.

Only watches me.

“I told you,” I murmur. “You are mine.”

A flicker of something burns in her gaze.

Not submission. Something else.

Something that makes my blood heat, my grip tighten.

I stand. Pull her up with me.

Velkiron is still breathing. For now.

But there are more coming.

More who will die before they lay a hand on her again.

I turn to her, voice low.

“Can you fight?”

Her lips part and a slow, dangerous smile graces her lips.

“Try me.”

25

SERA

Pain blooms in my whole being, sharp enough to steal the breath from my lungs.

The metallic tang of blood clings to my tongue, the taste of violence lingering in the aftermath of Veylan’s wrath. His grip is unrelenting, fingers curled around my wrist as he pulls me forward, his body a solid wall of fury.

The corridor ahead is a tunnel of shadow and flickering torchlight, stone walls trembling with the echoes of his destruction. Behind us, the bodies of Velkiron guards litter the floor, their final gasps drowned beneath his rage.

He killed them for me. Because of me.

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