Page 8 of The Bound Mage
“We’ve all been through a great deal, Your Majesty.” The Keeper of the Archives folded her hands calmly, giving him a sympathetic look.. “But the information she holds could matter to many. I understand the instinct to protect your mate, but I’ve heard she’s something of a scholar herself?—”
“She’s a resource,” Cormac cut her off, his voice hard as steel. “A tool. We’ve all had to set aside sentiment for the good of our people. That includes you, Your Majesty.”
The shadows surged from the corners of the room, joining the darkness coiled at his feet. It rose around him, bristling with rage as Loren fixed his temper on Eloria’s commander at arms.
“Speak of using her again,” Loren snarled, his voice low and lethal, “and Jaxon Shaw will be the least of your concerns.”
Cormac paled, but held his ground, his jaw clenched tight as the shadows closed in around him. The advisor next to him leapt to her feet, her chair crashing to the floor as she scrambled away.
“We’re still assessing the best approach, Cormac,” Eloria said, her calm voice cutting through the tension like a knife.“Until a decision is reached, Araya will remain safely at Ithralis under Loren’s watchful eye. That should be enough to satisfy everyone for now.”
Cormac dipped his head, sinking slowly back into his chair. But the shadows hissed, wood splintering as frost crept across the table. Because Eloria hadn’t outright rejected his demand—she’d told himnot yet.
“Loren,” Eloria murmured. “Please.”
He grit his teeth, digging his will into the darkness. But it fought, twisting against his command.
She is ours, they snarled, dark voices rising around him like a tide.Ours.Protecther.
“Enough.” His breath fogged the air in front of him, his hands clenched white-knuckled around the edge of the table. “There’s no fight here. Not right now.”
The shadows shivered, reluctantly curling back across the table. Loren dropped heavily into his chair, releasing the breath he’d been holding as they settled at his feet. But their threat lingered, clear in the brittle silence they left in their wake.
“And will you be remaining at Ithralis as well?” the Steward of the Hall asked finally, his voice polite but pointed. “The people need to see you, Princess. The mood in Lumaria?—”
Eloria inclined her head, as calm as ever.
“Now that my brother is settled and recovering I’ll be spending the majority of my time in Lumaria,” she said, “Now please, let’s continue.”
The discussion turned to rations—hoarding, dwindling stores, the latest supply failure—it all blurred together, painting a grim picture of their chances for survival here. Loren forced himself to listen. These were his people. Their survival was his duty—but a flash of silver by the door caught his eye.
He stood, shoving his chair back so hard it screeched across the stone. The bond was a blade between his ribs, stealing hisbreath as he caught Ilyana’s eye. He’d asked the Healer to look in on Araya—if she was here now, something was wrong.
“Loren?” Eloria asked.
“Continue without me,” he said, already moving. He didn’t look back to see the disapproving looks he was sure were aimed at his back. He didn’t care. Let them judge him. It didn’t matter what they thought. Not when Araya needed him.
“How is she?”
“Physically? She’s recovered wonderfully.” Ilyana crossed her arms. “No lingering side effects from the concussion. She has full mobility in her wrist. Magically, her power reserves are recovering nicely. She’s having some growing pains, but nothing unexpected.”
Loren braced his hands on the back of the chair. “And mentally?”
“That’s a harder question to answer.” Ilyana let out a slow, measured breath. "Mental healing isn’t a straight path?—”
“Try,” Loren growled, barely curbing the urge to bare his teeth at the Healer. The shadows at his heels stirred, as restless and unsettled as he was.
Ilyana’s head jerked up, her bright blue eyes sparking with anger.
“Spending all of her time alone in her room isn’t helping,” she snapped. “I’m a Healer, not a spy, Your Majesty. If you want to know how she’s doing you should try asking her yourself.”
“She doesn’t want to see me,” Loren snapped. “Maybe after her runes are removed?—”
“She refused.” Ilyana crossed her arms, glaring at him. “She seemed…panicked by the idea. I told you it wasn’t a good idea to bring it up this soon?—”
“She has to have them removed.” The bond twisted under Loren’s skin, digging its claws into him as the shadows hissed at his feet. “I don’t care if it’s dormant. I want it gone.”
“Andshedoesn’t,” Ilyana snapped back. “It’s not your decision, Your Majesty. It’s her body. We donotforceanyoneto have their runes removed before they are ready.”
