Page 63 of The Bound Mage
Loren froze, finally looking directly at her. His lips parted, something sharp and wounded flickering behind his fury. “Ael’sura…” His voice cracked, more plea than rebuke. “You don’t know what you’re walking into. They’ll never agree to what you want to do. They’re going to tear you apart.”
“I have to do this, Loren.” Araya raised a hand, giving into the urge to brush her fingers over his cheek. “Please, don’t try to stop me.”
Loren closed his eyes at the featherlight touch, his eyebrows drawing together like he was in pain.
“I’m not supposed to interfere,” he said finally, his voice pitched for her ears alone. “But if you want to leave, say the word. I’ll get you out.”
Araya’s heart twisted. There was no guile in the offer. Just truth. If she asked him to save her, he would. But she couldn’t let him destroy himself like that.
“It will be fine,” she murmured, dropping her hand. “I’ll be fine, Loren.”
This room hadn’t been builtfor holding council sessions. None of the chairs matched, and the long table was actually several shoved together. But the people who sat around it—Araya fought the urge to cower in the face of their scrutiny, feeling more like she was standing trial than an invited guest.
“Thank you for coming, Lady Starwind.” Eloria said, standing at the head of the table. “We appreciate you making the time to speak with us today.”
One of the councilors snorted, his arms crossed over his chest like a shield. Dark bruises marred his throat, vivid against the pallor of his skin. He sneered, staring her down with bloodshot eyes.
“Finally,” he said. “We’ve been requesting her presence for weeks.”
Beside his sister, Loren stiffened, the aetherlamps flickering in their sconces as the room darkened.
“She’s here now—of her own free will,” Eloria said tightly. “Let that be enough, Commander. We don’t need a repeat of Bloomtide here today.”
The bruised male—Cormac, Araya realized with a shiver—snorted but sank back into his chair, scowling down at the table. Loren’s jaw flexed, but after a moment he looked away, the light returning to the edges of the room.
“Go ahead, Lady Starwind,” Eloria said, taking her own seat. “We’re listening.”
Araya squared her shoulders, sucking in a deep breath. She could do this. She had to. Yet the words she’d rehearsed turned to ash on her tongue beneath the weight of their stares. What right did she have to stand here, begging them to hear her? She was no one—a halfblood who had bargained her freedom to a monster.
Then something cool brushed her ankle—one of Loren’s shadows, coiling gently around her boot. She hadn’t seen it slip from his side, but its quiet touch steadied her frayed nerves.
“Thank you for agreeing to see me,” she said, her voice quieter than she intended, but steady. “I know most of you don’t trust me, and I don’t blame you for that. But I think I have a solution to the difficulties you’ve faced with the Shadowed Veil.”
Araya paused, but no one spoke. Eloria arched a brow, while Cormac leaned back in his chair, a sneer already twisting his face.
“I understand that your beliefs say the shadows only bind themselves to one person in each generation,” Araya forced herself to continue. “I believe I can give you another way to control them—one that doesn’t rely on a living host.”
“And what credentials do you have to speak on such matters? Your time in the New Dominion?” Cormac leaned forward, his eyes glittering with malice. “I didn’t realizebonded femalesreceived any sort of education there.”
Araya flushed, heat flooding her cheeks. But she refused to look away. “I had…a unique role due to my relationship with Jaxon Shaw.”
“Convenient for you,” Cormac said idly, his lip curling. “Normally, we have every sympathy for the horrors faced by bonded females—but thisrelationshipwith the younger Shaw far preceded your bonding, didn’t it?”
A murmur of agreement rolled down the table. A silver-haired female wearing the pale robes of a devotee to the Absent Goddess leaned forward, the silver embroidery marking her as the High Luminary shining in the light of the aetherlamps. “He was your teacher—your sponsor. And you repaid his patronage by warming his bed.” She shook her head, her voice cold. “Forgive me, Lady Starwind, but you don’t sound like the prisoner Prince Loren painted you to be.”
“Did you have a question for her, Myna?” Loren growled. “She did what she had to do to survive?—”
“I think Miss Starwind should get to speak for herself,” Eryn cut in. His dark eyes flicked to her, unreadable. “After all, she is the one with the petition.”
Araya’s throat tightened. She wanted to vanish, to sink through the stone floor, but she forced herself to stand straighter, almost tripping over her words in her haste to get them out.
“The Shadowed Veil was a project assigned to Jaxon Shaw,” she said. “I worked with him under special permission from the Arcanum. In that time, I created a test amulet by mixing my blood with Loren’s—one that granted the wearer some degree of control over the shadows.”
Several councilors recoiled as if she’d spat poison at them, horrified murmurs rising around the table.
“An amulet made out of what?” Myna demanded. “Because it sounds like you’re describing an amplifier.”
“I am.” Araya’s stomach twisted. She’d gone over this a hundred times in her head, but speaking it aloud felt colder. Crueler. “The one I created used a fragment of bone—what theArcanum calls a blank. But Jaxon intended to continue testing with whole bone.”
