Page 1 of Prisoner of Steel and Shadow

CHAPTER1

RONAN

Reyna is dead.

Five years without so much as a murmur of her whereabouts and today, finally, the harshest truth. The Night Stalker queen, Elysia’s most ruthless assassin, the woman he’d searched high and low for, was never coming back. They found her body.

As soon as the news reached him, the small ember of hope, that sole kernel of warmth remaining within him, guttered out. He wasn’t even an echo of who he’d once been. That would imply part of that man remained, but any tenderness he once had withered away, leaving something hard and brittle in its absence. Traits such as empathy, kindness, and humor were such foreign concepts he couldn’t recall the last time he’d employed them.

When weeks without sign of her turned to months and then years, he’d spiraled deeper into sorrow that quickly turned to obsession. Some might even call it madness. It was then he began seeking out the blackest parts of his soul, clinging to them in his effort to find some sort of outlet for the bottomless grief he could not purge.

She was supposed to be it, his happily ever after. The woman he’d grow old with. The one who’d spend long days—and longer nights—in his bed. The one to bear his children and teach them how to channel the wild spirits they’d inherited from their parents into a life that wouldn’t see them tamed completely. They were supposed to live out their days together, the mundane transformed into something remarkable because she’d be at his side until the Mother called them both home.

He’d had plans. So many fucking plans. All of them centered aroundher.

And she was dead.

Stolen from him before he could tell her what she meant to him. He never even got the chance to let her know she was the one who ultimately repaired the battered remains of his heart—nay, his very soul—only for it to be shattered beyond recognition in the wake of losing her.

So what was left for him here?

What purpose remained now that the one reason he had to crawl out of bed each morning had just been ripped away from him?

Gritting his teeth, Ronan acknowledged another harsh truth, though this one came with a wave of icy acceptance.

Nothing.

There wasnothingleft.

He’d been broken once before and barely recovered then. There was no coming back this time. Not for him. Not without her.

He couldn’t live like this anymore, half a man, devoid of purpose—of hope.

He refused.

Adjusting the hood of his cloak to ensure it concealed his entirely too recognizable face, Ronan shoved open the door to a tavern no respectable person would dare enter and stalked across the ale-and-vomit-splattered floor to the notice board against the far wall. A hush settled over the room as the patrons within watched him tear a piece of parchment off, the quiet interrupted by shocked gasps when they realized which bounty he held in his hands.

Lukas Nightshade, the Bargainer. Infamous blackguard, notorious thief, and criminal kingpin. Gifted in four of the five magic branches, he was the third most powerful person in the realm, falling just after the Kiri and her Mateifthe rumors were to be believed. He’d only evaded capture for so long because no one had ever seen his face and lived to share the tale.

Thus, the unclaimed bounty. The contract was so yellowed and faded with age that it had become a running joke that time would do the job before a proper merc.

Only an utter fool—or man with a death wish—would dare to attempt it.

Ronan didn’t know who’d posted it, which would matter if he’d had any intention of claiming the reward. But he wasn’t doing this for the money. This was about release. Even if that wasn’t the case, a man in his position could never claim the bounty. He was a member of the Kiri’s Circle. One of the five famed Chosen sworn in service of their queen. The vows he’d made to her, the ones proclaiming him a man of honor who’d act only according to her will, forbade it. They were the same vows he upheld in the light of day but dropped as soon as the sun went down. There was no honor in what he did under cover of darkness, though perhaps there was a grim sense of justice.

A vigilante’s justice.

The Butcher’s justice.

It was a moniker Ronan donned as easily as this cape. One he welcomed. Because when he set aside his title of Shield, the sacred protector, he became something else. Something darker, born of violence and rage rather than loyalty and obedience.

It was a name spoken of in whispers. A name that sent the people he was supposed to protect fleeing for the safety of their homes.

A name they feared.

When he couldn’t be Reyna’s hero, Ronan turned to the darkness and became a monster instead.

And now it was time for the Butcher to go to work.

---