Page 1 of Bound to the Shadow Queen (Frostbound Court #2)

Draven

Death came from the shadows.

They spread across the sky, blotting out the sun and casting jagged outlines of their cursed wings along the pristine snow. Pristine until it wasn’t.

Until it was crimson with the blood of my people. Of my mother.

Until all that remained were endless rows of wings and claws, slaughtering my soldiers and desecrating the grave of the last family I had left.

The wings caught the dying light of the sun, glowing brighter, paler. They shimmered like the moonlight itself, ethereal and deadly as the single lie that had started the war.

The words of a traitor.

Traitor.

My eyes flew open.

Traitor. My wife was the traitor. And she had been taken from me.

I shot up in my narrow cot, ignoring the pain that lanced through my shoulder. The air was heavy with the scent of tar and rotting flesh…something that should have taken days in winter.

Frost-blasted hells.

How long had it been since the bastard Skaldwings took off with my shards-damned queen?

Frost spread from my clenched fists, down to the bloodstained floor and the boarded windows. The door swung open on busted hinges and I lifted my hand instinctively.

Lady Noerwyn strode in on silent footfalls, not so much as flinching at the motion. Her pale hair was pulled into a severe bun, and the firelight cast her bronze skin in stark contrast.

Her hands were red and calloused, knuckles raw around the tray of tonics, as if she gripped it like a weapon instead of an offering.

“I see you’ve finally decided to wake up and be useful,” she said, setting the tray on a low table at my side.

“Where is she?” my voice was rough with disuse.

“Here, drink this,” Noerwyn said, shoving a tonic into my chest.

“I will not ask again.”

Her eyes flashed to mine, and she let out a scoff.

“I have spent the last week scrubbing the decaying remains of all my friends and the monsters who ate them, in between cleaning up your royal vomit and trying to make sure you didn’t lose your mana, all for the singular purpose of finding my sister.

I have nothing left to lose. So you can save your threats and drink your frost-damned tonic. ”

I was in no mood for her games of control. No one ever truly had nothing left to lose.

“Nothing left?” I challenged. “Were those not your servants I heard moving around upstairs?”

She leveled a look at me, the color of her eyes startlingly similar to those of my traitorous wife. Just as the ruthlessness in them was startlingly different.

“I care for the people under my protection. But do not mistake me, I would die for my sister. And I would kill for her too, incidentally or otherwise.”

Nothing but the truth shone from her resolute features. She would let me slaughter every last member of this household and herself before she put her sister in danger.

“Then why won’t you tell me where she is?” I demanded.

“Because I need a vow from you first, and I would prefer for your mana to stabilize so you don’t accidentally kill me before I can help you save her.” She looked pointedly at where shards of ice spiraled into the walls, cracking the bloodstained stone.

I took a sharp breath, unstoppering the bottle. If she had wanted to kill me, she would have by now, and we didn’t have time to waste on this back and forth.

Not if it had already been a shards-damned week.

I downed the liquid in one go, not dropping her gaze. “What is it you want?”

She lifted her chin. “You will promise not to hurt her, and in exchange, I will tell you everything I know about where to find her.”

“So you don’t know where she is,” I said flatly.

Her shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “I know more than you do.”

It was harder than it should have been to hold her challenging gaze, too reminiscent of all the stalemates I’d been forced into with her sister.

Harder still to admit that she was my best source of information, especially when my sworn Visionary was the one who had put us in this shards-damned mess to begin with. Nevara’s betrayal was the last thing I wanted to think about right now.

Torture was always an option, but she would be slow to break—if she broke at all. Time was a luxury I didn’t have. The Wilds were vast, chaotic territories, with mana steeped into the nature itself, designed to mislead Seelie fae, to say nothing of the wards.

There was a reason I hadn’t already led an army to wipe out the remainder of the Skaldwings. I needed more information.

“I promise not to kill her,” I countered Noerwyn’s offer.

Unlike my darling Unseelie wife, I wasn’t a liar, certainly not where vows came into play. I couldn’t kill her—that much Nevara had said outright. While she could be cryptic as all hells, she couldn’t outright lie to me.

But nothing was certain enough for me to guarantee that my wife would never be hurt by me.

A muscle feathered in Noerwyn’s jaw, her features hardening as she processed the distinction I had offered. I held her gaze, letting her see the savagery in my own. I would give her this bargain, but if she pushed me too far, I would damned well find another way to get what I needed.

She nodded like she heard what I didn’t say, a single furious dip of her chin. Then she held out her hand, signifying her willingness, however reluctant.

I grasped it with my own, and waves of mana swept over us, sealing me into my second vow with an Elarion sister.

Somehow, I had the feeling this one would be just as cursed as the first, but I would do whatever I had to in order to find my shards-damned wife.

She might have been a traitor, but she was my traitor. My death.

Morta Mea .

I would tear kingdoms apart to bring her back before I let the Unseelie filth keep what belonged to me.