Page 107 of The Bound Mage
“Leave soldiers here,” Loren ordered, turning for the door. “Enough to organize the supplies and keep the children safe.”
Thorne matched his stride. “And you?”
“I’m going to get my mate,” Loren said. “And Goddess help whoever gets in my way.”
They had nearly reachedIthralis when the shadows broke from him, surging ahead in a rush of darkness. Loren sprinted after them, ignoring Thorne’s shout. Something was wrong. He could feel it—like cold fingers wrapping around his heart, ready to crush him completely.
“Loren, wait!” Thorne yelled somewhere behind him. “It’s?—”
A figure burst from the underbrush, nearly colliding with him. Eilwen—wild-eyed and bleeding, her child clutched so tightly to her chest that his cries were muffled against her shoulder.
“Stay back!” she screamed, her body curving around her child as she twisted out of his grasp. “Don’t touch us!”
“Eilwen!” Loren swore, ducking as branches lashed at his face, turned on him by the terrified grower. “It’s me! You’re safe!”
“Your Majesty?” Eilwen blinked, the terror in her violet eyes fracturing into disbelief and panicked hope. “Araya—you have to go. She needs you?—”
“What happened?” Loren demanded.
“She saved me—” Eilwen’s voice hitched, breaking on a sob. “She savedus. She couldn’t even stand, but she convinced him to give me back Selan. She threw herself from the cart to give me a chance to run. But she couldn’t get away?—”
“Where?” Loren demanded. “Where is she?”
“Ithralis.” Eilwen looked up at him, fresh tears streaking her cheeks. “I heard him say there was a boat—already loaded. Thehuman runesmith helped us, but she couldn’t get away. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry?—”
“Loren—” Thorne started, but Loren didn’t wait to hear what he had to say.
He ran.
Branches clawed at him, thick underbrush dragging at his legs. But Loren barely noticed the thorns raking his skin or the vines that tangled around his ankles. His world had narrowed to the single, pulsing demand that pounded in his chest, echoed by the shadows that raced alongside him.
Reach her. Save her.
He plunged out of the tree line, nearly tripping over the cart. It sat across the path, its wheels mired in the mud. Abandoned. Loren’s nostrils flared, taking in the traces of iron under the acrid stink of vomit, threaded through with the iron tang of blood.
His mate had bled here.
Loren stalked past the abandoned cart, the wind rising with every step. He stopped at the edge of the cliff, staring out at the single ship that cut across the Shadowed Sea like a knife. A man stood at the rail, staring back at him.
Jaxon Shaw. Fury rose like a tide in his blood, the shadows singing in answer. They surged, spilling over his shoulders and coiling down his arms like a living storm. He didn’t need the bond to know—Araya was on that ship. Jaxon Shaw was taking hismate.
“Go,” he snarled. “Get her.”
The shadows exploded forward, pouring over the cliff like a black tide. They broke against the rocks, their whispers a dark promise in his ears as they streaked across the waves. They would rip Jaxon from the deck—drag him screaming beneath the waves. It was a kinder death than he deserved. But all that mattered now washer.
Then Jaxon raised his hand.
Sunlight flared off pale bone, the reek of stolen magic so pungent that Loren couldtasteit through his shadows. The air itself twisted in on itself, the shadows faltering mid-surge. They hesitated.
Jaxon didn’t.
He drove the staff down. Power cracked like lightning across the water, lashing into the advancing shadows. They twisted, a thousand voices screaming in his mind, splitting his skull and driving him to his knees.
Your blood. Hers. He wields your magic—he is not you. Not a king. But he dares—he dares to command us?—
Loren clutched his chest, unable to catch enough of a breath to answer. The salt-soaked air sawed in and out of his lungs, burning his mouth and throat.
“You’re too late, Loren.”
