A flash of rose gold caught my eye, my focus zeroing in on the gilded charm that held a sizable labradorite in its center, hanging between her pale horns. Letting my shadow swords fade away, I reached out, yanking the charm from her horn.
“This was mine,” I spat out. “I don’t know when you took this, but I’ll be taking it back.”
Zarina huffed, rolling her eyes, but was smart enough to keep silent. She knew better than to argue with a dragon about their treasure. Letting her go, I pushed her to the entrance of my chamber, forcing her to follow in Morg’s wake. Holding the charm up, I glared at the crystal before shoving it in my pocket, mumbling threats of violence toward both females.
Zarina rolled her shoulders, letting out a soft snarl in my direction before trailing after Morg. Frowning, I eyed Zarina carefully, taking in her proud stature. I hadn’t seen my sister in many centuries, not since her mate and my wife perished in the human wars. A sadness still lingered in her features, one that I knew would never disappear, but she looked stronger. The despair that kept her from wanting to live seemed to be replaced with a quiet determination to be as irksome as she possibly could be.
Clenching my jaw, I ripped my gaze from her, letting my eyes adjust to the darkened stone hall. There were no windows here, no way for prey to escape from my clutches if they dared enter my space. Zarina let out a low curse from the lack of light, but this—the darkness—was where I thrived.
Finally, entering the Grand Hall, two thrones sat on a raised dais, so their occupants could look down on their people—a reminder of who was in charge. My eyes flicked up to the king’s conveniently empty chair. Only Morg sat on her throne, leaning back, her legs crossed one over the other, while wearing that proud, smug look of hers. Fortunately for her, she fought alongside me in the wars, saving my reckless ass more times than I could count.Thatwas the only reason stopping me from wiping that look off her face.
“It seems that you have left out certain details from your visit, Soren,” Morg glowered. “Tell me what you kept to yourself. This time, leave nothing out.” Lifting her chin, Morg peered down at me.
I bowed low, making a show of it, earning a hiss from Morg. “Of course, my queen. After following Cassia’s sniveling court advisor, I searched out the soul-meander at Cassia’s request. She said that there was something he would show me. There, I ran into the shadow that I believe Zarina speaks of.”
“And?” Morg pressed, though her face was blank. “What did you discover about this shadow?”
“Nothing,” I grumbled, my nose curling at the memory of the girl crying on the floor and how my body screamed to comfort her. “It’s not one of the shadow folk, though I don’t know what it is.”
“It attached itself to the girl,” Zarina hissed in my direction. “What else could it be? What else but the shadow folk could have the mind to behave the way it has done?”
A warning growl rumbled deep from my chest as my gaze slid toward Zarina. “The shadow folk were created from the chaos of my magic, which meant my power should have recognized it. This was different. It was something more.”
“What girl?” Morg said, her head tilting to the side in curiosity. Her voice sounded soft and friendly, but I knew her well enough to recognize the trepidation hidden within.
I swallowed my agitation as the dangerous glint in her eyes set my mating bond thrashing, a violent urge roaring inside me to destroy the threat she posed. But I needed to fight against it. I wouldnotallow myself to fall into the snare of this bond. I refused to let it control me.
“A female the soul-meander has been hanging around,” I said as calmly as I could. “From what I could tell, the shadow is attached to her, though I’m not sure why.”
“What do you know abouther?” Morg asked, her eyes narrowing on me like she could tell I was keeping more from her.
“Nothing,” I growled, my hands curling into tight fists by my side. “I left as soon as I saw her.”
“Zarina?” Morg kept her eyes on me, glaring. I ground my teeth together, letting the pain keep my head clear. This bond between the girl and me was repulsive, and I’ll continue to reject it until one of us dies. There was no reason to bring up what she is to me, to explain what she’s supposed to be to either Morg or Zarina.
“Her name is Sybil,” Zarina said flatly, as if she were reciting a list of information. “She was born in Mide and brought up as a human. Her magic was bound as a child by the soul-meander, but later released from it. Since then, she has become less human. The leader of Nemo’s rebellion requested information regarding her bloodline. From what he has explained, she has blood cells that pulse. We have been investigating this information for a few weeks now.”
Morg’s hand twitched on the armrests of her throne, a small indicator of recognition of what the cells could mean.
“Is there anything else?” Morg inquired. She tried to hide it, hide the tightening in her voice. But having known her for centuries, it was easy for me to catch. Morg’s eyes flicked to mine for a moment before returning to Zarina’s. A warning to keep quiet.
“No. We are still searching for information; however, that is all we know for now.”
Morg nodded, her brows pinching in thought. “Thank you, Zarina. You may leave now.” Zarina moved to return to Nemos when Morg called out her name again. Zarina slowly turned around, tension gathering in her shoulders. “The next time I find you in my court without my permission, youwillbe punished. Is that clear?”
Zarina studied Morg, her throat bobbing. “Yes, Queen Morgiana.”
When Zarina disappeared in a ball of water, Morg let out a vicious curse. “I need you to return to Nemos.”
“No.” I stared at Morg, my lips pressing into a thin line when her gaze slowly found mine. Black veins crept up along her neck and jaw.
“I will not ask you again, Soren,” Morg breathed, her voice beginning to sound otherworldly from her control loosening on her magic.
“You didn’t ask the first time,” I glowered. “I am not some lackey that you can make demands of and send to other realms on a whim.” I kept my voice calm; however, my magic thrummed beneath my skin, reacting to the power pulsing from Morg. Though she hadn’t confided what Dryden’s dreams regarded, whatever he saw kept her on edge in a way that I hadn’t seen for a millennium.
We stood at a standstill, the seconds slowly passing by, when Morg’s magic fell away, deflating as her shoulders sagged. Closing her eyes, Morg took one deep breath after another, letting it out slowly. The dark veins receded, her skin returning to its usual pale hue.
“Please,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Please find out more about her.”
