Vow of the Shadow King (Bride of the Shadow King Book 2)

Knar’s hooves hit the ground hard, jarring every bone in my body. He tosses his head and takes a vicious snap at me as I slide from the saddle. I smack his muzzle. “Begone!” I snarl.

With a shiver of his black coat, the beast folds himself up into his dark dimension, leaving me alone. I stand a moment, staring blankly at the world around me. Upon leaving Faraine’s chamber, I couldn’t bear to go anywhere I might risk encountering another soul. So, I’d guided my morleth to the palace gardens. These paths through the living crystal groves have always been a place of solace for me in the past. But now . . .

Now I see Faraine. Everywhere I look. The chittering mothcats leaping from stone to stone only make me think of the mothcat purring belly-up in her lap as we sat together by the lake. The gleaming of the living amethyst reminds me of the way her skin shone under its light when I first encountered her here. The very path on which I walk, I walked last night while carrying her in my arms. She is everywhere, in everything, every thought, every breath.

Because I let her into my heart. And it’s the worst mistake I’ve ever made.

I stagger like a drunken fool, my feet finding their own way to the falls and the mist-shrouded lake. There I continue on, splashing into the shallows and further until I stand waist-deep in the steaming waters. Beads of moisture accumulate across my skin. It’s too hot, but I don’t care. I want it to scald me, to cleanse my body, mind, and soul.

“Juk!” I growl through gnashed teeth. “Gods damn me to the deepest hells!”

I should have known better. I did know better. Everyone warned me. But they didn’t have to. I’ve known all along how dangerous her mere presence is to my self-control. Like dancing on the edge of a knife. Fool that I am, I’d danced anyway.

I turn slowly. Ripples flow out from me across the misty lake. Another ghostly image of Faraine appears before my eyes, perched on the boulder where I’d sat her last dimness. Where I’d knelt before her, washing her feet. She knew. She knew what I felt for her. And she used that knowledge against me. She and her cursed gods-gift.

I surge forward, grab that boulder. A grunt, a strain, and I heave the whole thing over my head. With a roar, I hurtle it across the lake. It crashes into the crystal wall, shatters, the pieces falling like a small avalanche into the mist and foam.

Chest heaving, I bow my head. Rage roils in my head. But if I’m honest . . . I’m not angry at Faraine. Not truly. No, this rage is for me alone. For my own stupidity and selfishness. How can I blame Faraine? It’s not her fault. She couldn’t understand. She isn’t fae, she isn’t of this world. How could she possibly comprehend the power of written magic over my kind? She cannot grasp how I will be bound by the words of the marriage if it is fulfilled.

Suddenly heavy, I sag to my knees, there on the edge of the lake. My own futility and weakness threaten to crush me under their weight. I’d thought I could give Faraine everything she wanted. But when the moment came, I could not give her what she needed. I could not give her me. Not completely. Because I do not belong to myself. I am Mythanar’s king. I belong to my people, my city, my realm. I belong to the warriors I lead and all the denizens of this world I have sworn to protect.

In the heat of passion, I’d half-believed I could deny the fates, become what she needed as both husband and lover. But to give her what she desired would only bind me forever to Larongar. To consummate our marriage would mean serving her father in his wars. I would be forced to lead trolde warriors, good men and women both, to die on foreign soil.

I drop my head to my chest, close my eyes. Exhale a long breath. In the darkness of my mind, I see Faraine again. Her naked body. Her slim legs, her soft breasts. The lovely curve of her waist and hips. Her long, elegant neck.

Most of all, I see her face. Gazing up at me in such wonder and delight. Her lips parted in the shock of unexpected ecstasy. So full of trust. So full of shining promise.

What a fool I was! To lash out at her like that, to accuse her of seduction and deceit, when all along, the fault was mine. I never should have let myself be alone with her, never should have given in to the temptation of her touch, her taste, her spirit. It was too easy to forget everything else. To be just a man and a woman. A husband and a wife.

Sitting back on my heels, I raise my head, gaze up at the cavern ceiling high above. If Nornala can see me through all these layers of stone, I pray the goddess of unity will show me some way forward. Some path I might walk that will lead me back to Faraine. But I fear no such path exists. We are destined to be drawn ever away from one another.

“My King!”

Stiffening, I turn, look back through the gardens. Water pours off me as I rise and wade swiftly back to the shore. I’m just stepping from the shallows when Hael rounds a corner and skids to a stop. Her eyes widen in shock at the sight of me, dripping wet on the edge of the lake. “Your Majesty!” She pulls herself together and offers a hasty salute. “Someone said your morleth was seen flying this way.”

“What is it, Hael?” I demand, my voice low and calm despite my quickened pulse.

“It’s Yok.”

“Yok?” I stare hard at her, noting all the cracks breaking across her stoic face. “What’s happened?”

“No one knows.” Her words tumble out in a terrible rush. “He was with Captain Toz, hunting cave devils in Zulmthu. They found a trail, and it took them deep down, below Mythanar. There was a cave-in . . . the ground gave way . . .” Hael stops a moment, as though the next words are too painful to speak out loud. She forces them out: “Yok, Toz, and four others . . . they fell. Deep.”

“And no one bothered to go after them?”

She shakes her head. “Only Lur came back. She said it was too dangerous on her own. There was a nest of woggha.”

“How many?”

“A hundred. More. She couldn’t say for certain.”

My blood runs cold. A hundred cave devils? In one place? Even a single devil is a dangerous beast, capable of decimating half a town. The damage a hundred of them in swarm might do is . . . is . . .

An image of the ripped apart bodies in the Karthur Channel flashes vividly across my mind’s eye. “We must destroy them,” I say. “We must find Yok and the others. And then we must put an end to those beasts.”

“Yes, my King.” Hael salutes. “I’ll muster the guard at once, and then we will—”

“No!” The word snaps from my lips. “You cannot come with me, Hael. Not this time. Your duty is to guard Faraine.”

“But you need me for this!”

I do. There is no one I would rather have with me when facing a whole nest of rabid woggha than my brave captain and friend. But if something were to happen . . . if that swarm were to get into Mythanar . . . No. I cannot bear to think of Faraine facing even one of those monsters without Hael at her side.

“You have your orders, Captain,” I say firmly. “Summon the guard. Then report to the princess’s chambers and see that she remains safe. Have I made myself clear?”

Hael’s eyes are bright with desperate fire. But she lifts her chin, sets her jaw, and answers only: “Perfectly clear, my King.”