Page 85 of Bound to the Dreadlord

"He lets her stay in his chambers."

"She does something to him."

"You think he’s ensnared?"

"The Dreadlord? Please."

Laughter, but not dismissive. Curious.

My stomach tightens.

I keep walking, moving unseen, slipping past conversations that thrum with something dangerous.

"A siren."

"Impossible."

"Then explain why he keeps her."

"Explain why he killed for her."

The breath in my lungs freezes.

I knew the whispers would spread. But not this fast. Not this loud. And now, they are watching me differently.

I don’t realize I’ve taken a wrong turn until it’s too late.

The corridor narrows, the torchlight flickering too weakly against the dark.

A shadow shifts behind me.

I turn.

A guard blocks the path.

He is not like Veylan.

There is no patience in his gaze.

No leashed restraint, no careful cruelty sharpened into something like discipline.

He wants.

His eyes rake over me, lingering too long, lips pulling into something sharp and ugly.

"What’s a little human doing sneaking around, hmm?"

The torchlight glints against his dark armor. His sword is still sheathed at his side. He doesn’t think I’m a threat.

That makes one of us.

I step back. Not fast enough.

His hand shoots out, fingers catching my arm, squeezing. Hard.

"You think being the Dreadlord’s pet makes you untouchable?"he murmurs, dragging me closer. "That it makes you special?"

Panic claws at my throat. I shove against him, hard. He doesn’t move.

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