Page 50 of Bound In Shadow

Through the haze, I recall our moments of closeness. How her lips tasted of fury and desperation, how her voice trembled with need. The memory drags a ragged breath from me.This is deeper than lust. She’s lodged under my skin.

A scuffling sound at the door breaks my reverie. My heart lurches—could it be Lysandra? The wards wouldn’t let just anyone pass. But no, it’s Rhazien returning, face grim.

He bows. “My prince, word from the farmland watchers. Several enclaves remain defiant. They claim they’ll only parley with Lysandra personally. They don’t trust your men.”

I let out a strangled laugh. “Of course they want her. She’s their rebel queen.” Then bitterness seeps in. “She won’t trust me enough to lead them without thinking I might turn on her. And the council demands her head if we fail. Perfect.”

Rhazien’s face tightens. “Shall we force compliance? Or let them remain at the fringes?”

I slam the glass down on the table, the sound echoing. “We have no time for half measures. Summon our best negotiators, but keep them at the edge. If these enclaves insist on Lysandra’s presence, we’ll have to arrange it—but under heavy guard.”

He nods. “And if she refuses?”

“She might. But then the farmland operation stalls, and the council tightens the noose.” I press fingers to my temple. My mind conjures the image of Lysandra’s shock if I try to force her into this. Another reason for her to flee or fight me.

Rhazien’s silence speaks volumes.He sees me unraveling.

“Go,” I say wearily. “Prepare the men. We’ll attempt a controlled meeting with one of the enclaves tomorrow morning.”

He bows again, then departs.Tomorrow morning.The day after that, the council’s deadline hits. If we haven’t pacified the farmland by then, or if Lysandra so much as twitches out of line, war looms.

Time drags. I slump onto a padded bench near the hearth, exhaustion washing over me. The door wards flicker again. I stiffen, bracing for more unwelcome news. Instead, Lysandra steps inside, flanked by a guard who lingers in the hall. My heart clenches the moment I see her.

She looks wary, shoulders rigid, eyes flicking to the liquor decanter. “I’m not interrupting?”

I swallow the urge to snap. “No. I told the guards to let you pass if you came.”

She approaches slowly, as if entering a wolf’s den. And perhaps she is. Our gazes lock, tension swirling. “I heard rumors from a soldier about farmland enclaves demanding my presence. Is that true?”

I nod, scrubbing a hand across my face. “Yes. They won’t negotiate unless they see you in person. They likely want confirmation you haven’t sold them out.” My lips twist in a bitter smile. “Ironic, isn’t it?”

She exhales. “And you plan to drag me there tomorrow?”

My throat tightens. “If you refuse, the enclaves remain defiant. The council will declare we failed to subdue them, or that you’ve used illusions to trick me. Then they’ll demand your life. The deadline is upon us.”

She flinches, a flicker of guilt crossing her face. “So I have no choice.”

My voice comes out harsher than intended. “No, you don’t.”

Silence stretches, fraught with so many unspoken things. She folds her arms, gaze darting around the cluttered study. “Xelith… you’re furious with me. And I’m not exactly pleased with you. But if meeting them is what it takes to spare them from slaughter, I’ll do it.”

My chest aches at her weary resolve. I recall the day she tried to escape. The assassins, her terror, my own panic.I can’t keep her safe if we keep clashing.

I stand, crossing to her in a few strides. She tenses, but doesn’t back away. “I hate the position we’re in,” I admit, voice low. “I hate that the council is forcing my hand. I hate that I can’t simply… let you go.”

Her breath catches. “And if you did? Let me go, I mean.”

I let out a ragged laugh. “Then the council hunts you, calls me traitor, and unleashes chaos. We both lose.”

She lowers her gaze, shoulders slumping. “So we’re trapped.”

I reach out hesitantly, fingers brushing the side of her arm. The contact sends a faint tremor through me. “Yes. But if we manage to placate the enclaves, maybe we buy enough time to slip the council’s noose.”

She lifts her eyes, the depth of her vulnerability hitting me hard. “All right. I’ll do my part. But if I sense a trap?—”

My grip on her arm tightens, a pang of hurt. “I won’t betray you, Lysandra. Not to them.”

She studies me as if trying to read the truth behind my words. Then, with a small nod, she breaks eye contact. “I’ll hold you to that.”

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