Page 83 of Sworn to the Shadow Throne

I opened my mouth to argue, but I was distracted by Cam slipping into Reina’s chair at her desk. For a heartbeat, I thought he was dodging Reina’s fury. But he started frantically flipping the pages until he landed on the spread filled with black swirls. His brow furrowed as his index finger traced a line near the bottom of the page, tapping once. Twice. Like he was solving a riddle.

Reina’s fingers let go of her skirts at the sound, clearly annoyed. Nisien walked closer to peer over his shoulder, tilting his head at the page with an expression I couldn’t read. Something in my chest went very, very quiet—braced for impact.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Cam said to Reina, his voice a low rumble as a smug grin crept across his face. “I’m only trying to support my brother in reclaiming his lady. I think he has an excuse for how insane he’s acting.” He waggled his eyebrows like the bloody jester he was.

This had the opposite effect on Reina from what he must’ve hoped.

“What?” I snapped.

Reina said, “Even I’m getting irritated with your grandstanding, General Allard. Speak.”

Cam stood and rocked from side to side on his feet like an agitated puppy, barely containing himself. His hands came up to clutch at his chest in a dramatic display worthy of the stage. “She’s his mate.”

Every shadow I owned went completely, utterly still, like a held breath. I grabbed the arm of the nearest chair just to stay upright.

I had to sit down. I stumbled into the chair I was holding onto, falling heavily into it. The strange pull tying me to her seemed to grow impossibly tighter, like a bow drawn back and waiting.

Any denial I might’ve voiced strangled itself in my throat as something inside me clenched with absolute certainty. Shadows coiled beneath my skin, pressing, closing around my vocal cords, commanding my silence.

Cursed gods, my magic, my heart…together, they howled that he was right. Part of me had suspected, probably even known that she was my mate, but I hadn’t put a label on it.

Nisien didn’t look surprised. His expression held the quiet satisfaction of a man watching the last piece of a puzzle fall into place.

“It says right here that the mate bond is exaggerated for Nocthel,” Camrick said. “Heightened instincts. Possessiveness. Protective responses dialed to madness. I’ve never seen him act like this. He’s losing his mind because of weird Fae shit.”

I breathed slowly, eyes flicking between Camrick’s confident stance, Nisien’s satisfied smirk, and Reina’s sudden, shocked stillness.

“How poetic,” I croaked when my magic finally loosened its grip.

Cam laughed and slapped me hard between the shoulders—a familiar blow meant to ground, not hurt—the kind men gave each other when words failed. I’d have shrugged off anything more tender. He knew me well enough to know that.

Reina folded her arms across her middle, the gesture small and guarded. Anxiety didn’t suit her. Just the sight made my chest ache. A reminder that even shadow-forged steel bent eventually. That frightened me more than weathering the storm of her anger.

Her gaze flicked to the book then flashed back to me with startling intensity. Even so, her voice was quieter than it had been. “Is she your mate?”

Fuck. She was thinking about my parents. I was too.

I couldn’t meet her eyes. My hands clenched and unclenched at my sides. “Probably,” I admitted quietly.

Reina’s expression turned grim, tinged with apprehension. “The bond explains your behavior,” she said. “But it doesn’t make your choice any less fucked up!”

That hit me harder than her anger had, because some buried part of me had been expecting the knowledge to soften her. Like naming my excuse somehow made it righteous.

She exhaled sharply, face suddenly set in the expression she used to get everyone around her in line with her wishes. “When she gets here, you will stay away from her.”

“What? Why?”

“Your mind is a bewildering mix of brilliance and utter horseshit!” Reina’s eyes were black now, sharp blades aimed directly at my face. “You sent royal soldiers to the home of a woman you left in tears. They carry your banners, your seal, and all the weight of a crown she cannot safely defy. Call them an escort as often as you like, Owain. You have fucking commandeered her after a falling out.”

I wanted to push back. I had an entire argument of justifications ready, but the gentler words for what I’d done fell to dust.

She wasn’t wrong.

I’d dressed my longing up in duty and necessity and the word required. I’d told myself the story so many times on the way over it had started to feel true. But at its core, I’d acted like a man who believed his desires justified his actions—a trait I’d always despised. And nowhere in my plan had I made room for her to remain in Selmont.

I didn’t deserve to be near Lunette. And yet even now, with the ugliness of it laid bare and acknowledged, the pull toward her didn’t loosen by a single degree.

“I will welcome her to the Tir,” Reina continued, already shifting into command. “She will be my project.” She pointed at Cam. “You will keep him busy and help as I require it.”