Page 80 of Wolf Caged (Bound to the Shadow King #1)

With a withering glare in Kaeleron’s direction, and sickness brewing in my stomach as I glanced at the sobbing, cowering fae before him, I bit out, “It appears the seelie aren’t liars after all. You’re as much a monster as they paint your kind to be.”

I wrenched free of Vyr’s grip and stormed from the room.

Kaeleron’s roar shook the castle and fear flashed through my blood as I broke into a run, fleeing from him, afraid of him even when I knew deep in my soul that he would never harm me.

Jenavyr closed the door of the great hall behind me but didn’t chase me down the corridor as I expected. I glanced back at her, finding her standing with her back against the ornate wooden doors, her beautiful face still as dark as night.

I didn’t stop running until I was in my room, my heart thundering as I closed the door and locked it behind me, my limbs shaking as the adrenaline wore off and my mind cleared.

And I realised I was going to pay for my outburst later, that I’d had no right to intervene when I didn’t know why those fae had been brought to Kaeleron, and no right to believe them innocent simply because they had been young.

I had overstepped, but I hadn’t been able to stop myself.

I couldn’t stand by and watch that sickening display of power—and anger—and hatred —without saying something.

I struggled for air as I went to the balcony, as I pressed my hands to the stone balustrade and looked out at the city that seemed darker now when it had been a source of light for me just an hour ago, while I had enjoyed my breakfast, all of me warmed by my night with Kaeleron.

I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, trying to reconcile everything that had happened, torn between polar feelings as I thought about Kaeleron.

It was only when the lock on my door snicked and it opened slowly that I realised afternoon was fading into evening, and I had been stood on my balcony for hours, lost in thoughts of the male who entered my room on a wave of power that curled around me in a gentle embrace rather than crushed my bones to powder as I had expected.

I looked over my shoulder at him as he stopped in the centre of my room, his gaze downcast, his air withdrawn rather than raging and furious. The stillness of him was more terrifying than his rage would have been.

“You cannot understand the burden I bear—the choices I must make. You do not understand how the things I have done—the things I must do—affect me.” He slowly lifted his emotionless silver gaze to meet mine. “You would rather watch a world go to hell than bloody your hands.”

I curled those hands into fists at my sides, hating the kernel of truth in his words.

“I pray you never have to discover what it is like to face that choice—to have to decide whether to run or fight—to decide whether to bloody your delicate, soft hands, or let those you love die a horrible death and watch them ripped from you.”

I swallowed, a feeling growing within me.

He was talking of his past now. I hung on every grim, painful word, because he was right.

Faced with such a choice, I wasn’t sure if I would fall to my knees and beg and plead for the lives of my family, or rise to my feet and do whatever it took—no matter how bloody and terrible—to save them.

Kaeleron heaved a sigh as he walked to the arched window closest to me, his broad shoulders shifting with it beneath his black tunic.

“You do not know what I would do for my court.” He gazed out of the window at it, his shoulders rigid, heavy with that invisible burden.

“Or the lengths I would go to in order to keep my people safe… and if that makes me a monster, so be it. I would embrace all that is dark—that is violent—in my blood to save them.”

I believed that softly spoken vow.

His eyebrows lowered and pinched as his gaze dropped to the city and he whispered, “A king does not remain in control of a kingdom by being everyone’s friend, little wolf.

You cannot rule with kindness. Not in this world.

In this world, you need to keep everyone in line.

You need to be firm. You need to do what you must to protect your people…

even if those people cannot understand your actions. ”

I leaned my right side against the stone arch of the door to the balcony as those words touched me deeply, connecting with a part of me that could understand his actions and his reasons for being as vicious and cold as he had been in the great hall.

“I know a little of what you speak about,” I said and then cleared my throat, putting more force behind my trembling voice.

“Alpha wolves have to be strong and fierce, and rule with an iron fist if they’re to remain in power.

The moment they show softness—weakness—another would rise to cut them down and take their place.

My world and this one aren’t so different. They’re both brutal. Violent at times.”

I exhaled softly as I thought about my pack, lowering my gaze to Kaeleron’s legs as he turned towards me, his eyes on me now.

“My father rules with kindness and warmth, supporting our pack members and keeping them happy that way, doing his best to be a good alpha. But sometimes he needs to put people in their places. Not that it happens often. But sometimes… sometimes he has to be fierce, unyielding, to keep people in line.” And he had often sheltered me from that side of pack life, sending me away to the cabin so I didn’t witness it, as if he feared me seeing it would change my opinion of him.

Sour my love for him.

And maybe that was why Kaeleron had sent me away.

He hadn’t wanted me to see the darker, more brutal side of him, the ruthless king he needed to be at times in order to keep his position and keep his court safe.

But I had seen it.

And gods damn me, but it hadn’t changed my opinion of him.

My growing love for him.

I frowned at his clothing, a simple black tunic and pants, not the intimidating armour he had been wearing in the great hall. No crown on his head. No mask in place. This male before me wasn’t the wrathful king of the Shadow Court.

He was just Kaeleron.

A freshly bathed Kaeleron, judging by his damp black hair.

He had bathed before he had come to me, washing the stain of what he had done from his body and softening his appearance. I could still hear the way that fae had begged him, could scent their terror and feel their fear.

“Were they—” I started.

“They were of the Silver Court,” he finished for me, his voice soft but gaining a hard edge it often did whenever he spoke of his enemies.

“A seelie court,” I whispered, recalling the position of it from the map in the war room. It was south of the Summer Court, and only the mountainous Black Pass separated it from the Shadow Court.

He nodded, still holding himself at a distance from me.

“What were they doing here?” I stepped into the room, hating the distance between us, wanting to erase it and bring things back to how they had been last night, aching to feel that closeness to him again.

“They were sent to my court to gather information to report to their king.” He met me halfway and then took hold of my arm, his touch gentle as he gripped it and led me back onto the balcony.

“Spies.” I mourned the loss of contact between us as he released me.

I moved to stand beside him, almost shoulder to shoulder with him as he stared at his city.

His court. And then his silver gaze was on me again, open and calm, a flicker of warmth shimmering in its depths.

I looked west, towards the border there.

“Were they the ones spotted in Wraith Wood?”

He inclined his head, his gaze distant as it drifted back to the city.

Beyond it, I realised.

He was looking at the rest of his kingdom—to the point where these fae had infiltrated his borders—concern growing in his eyes that drummed within me too.

How much information had they been able to gather in the time they had eluded capture?

What kind of things could they have taken back to their king had they escaped?

Kaeleron’s spies told him of troop movements and other valuable information, and were likely key when planning an invasion.

Could the Shadow Court have come under attack if they had returned to the Silver Court?

I was beginning to doubt any accord between the high kings would stop the courts if they really wanted to go to war. They would find a way.

“What—What happened to them?” I looked up at him, gaze tracing his noble profile as his expression hardened, the black slashes of his eyebrows dipping low and his silver eyes glacial again.

“I was merciful. Their deaths were swift.” He turned to me at last. “They were not innocent, little wolf. They were spies—wolves clothed as bleating lambs. Trained from a young age in espionage, honed for this purpose. Had I let them leave, they would have reported everything of my kingdom back to their king. I did what I must to protect my people.”

“I know.” But I was only just understanding how these courts worked and what this world was like, and I was only just realising that I didn’t understand what it was like to rule a kingdom, to have the welfare and safety of tens of thousands of people constantly on my mind.

Or the things Kael needed to live with, choices he had to make whose repercussions still echoed through his life now.

I had compared him to an alpha once, but he was so much more than that. His life was so much more difficult and challenging.

Not just the constant meetings, checking on his men, visiting border outposts, ensuring his legions were trained sufficiently, and ensuring thousands of people had all they needed in terms of food and safety.

It was the scars even his immortal body couldn’t heal and the wars he had fought in that I had read about in the library.

Those were the things that made me realise how different our lives had been.

I had been sheltered. So had my pack, and even Lucas’s pack.

None of us had ever really had to fight for our lives, to protect everything, not like Kaeleron had.

He wasn’t what I had thought a king would be.

There was no waiting in the rear. No. In every account I had read, he had been at the front of the battle, in the thick of it, commanding and watching over his men.

He was a hard, cold bastard at times, but maybe that was for the reason he had said.

It was the way he had to be, so everyone survived, so they could live as they did in the city.

Safe. Quiet. Without fear of attack. And while they longed for their families, while they secretly resented their king for closing the borders, it was that closing of the borders and warding them with magic at great cost to himself that kept them safe, that meant they didn’t need to fear they would be attacked.

I looked at the city, seeing a flash of what might have happened had those seelie walked free, had they been able to report to their king. Fire. Destruction. Death. Everything good and beautiful rendered to ash.

I couldn’t imagine what it was like to fight for your life and be in a battle. I just couldn’t. My mind refused to conjure how terrifying it would be, the choices people had to make, the sounds and the smells .

Kaeleron had fought in many, had survived them all, but as I looked at him, as he stood proud beside me, surveying his court—a court that was safe thanks to him—I could see those invisible scars each battle had left on him.

The life of a king was so different to that of an alpha. Kaeleron’s life made them look like pampered princes.

I glanced between him and the city, trying to find a way to break the thickening silence, wanting him to know that nothing had changed between us, that I wasn’t angry or afraid of him, and that while some of the townsfolk might not appreciate the things he did, that I did.

He had been right back in the library. He was a very good king.

One who was willing to make an enemy of himself to keep his people safe.

“I’m planning to visit the library today to research An’sidwain for you.” I knocked my knuckles against his, trying to get his attention.

The touch only lasted a split-second yet a thrill bolted up my arm at the contact.

That thrill became warmth and light as Kaeleron shifted his hand so our knuckles were in contact again, keeping it against mine as he spoke, as if he needed the connection as much as I did.

“Neve had another vision. An’sidwain lies within the Forgotten Wastes.”

I savoured the contact between us as I lifted my gaze to his face. “The Forgotten Wastes. I saw something in my dreams. Glittering dark grey sand. A plinth of bones. A red crystal. And I was terrified by the sight of it.”

That last part hit me out of nowhere, something I hadn’t recalled until I had replayed my dream.

“Exactly as Neve saw it.” Kaeleron huffed, his mood darkening. “Neve meddles. She should not force her visions upon you.”

“Why does she do it?” I had wanted to ask how, but that question had come out instead. “It’s not the first time she has.”

“She believes it is a way of keeping you here… of encouraging you to do as she needs or has seen.” He glowered at the city.

“She showed me this world… because I was afraid and wanted to go home. She showed me pieces of it, enough to make me want to stay and see it. And now she’s shown me the Forgotten Wastes and An’sidwain… But I don’t know why.”

His lips flattened, the corners turning downwards as shadows restlessly twined around the carved stone spindles of the balustrade. “Because she wishes me to take you with me, and I will not.”

“If I have to go, then I’ll go,” I said. “I’m not afraid.”

He gave me a look that said I might not be afraid, but he was. He didn’t want to take me there, meaning the Forgotten Wastes had to be a dangerous place, and going there might get me killed.

“Tell me where it is anyway, and maybe I can help research a way to get it.” I wouldn’t let him shut me out, wouldn’t be kept in the dark any longer, not when I felt I could be of use to him and could help him.

“An’sidwain is in the last place I would ever take you.”

His gaze locked with mine, warm yet dark as his words sent a cold shiver down my spine and filled me with dread.

“The home of an ancient lich.”