The Shadowbound Queen Chapter Two

Kieran Vael didn’t move from his place in the shadows, but the weight of his gaze pinned Rhia against the door as effectively as a blade to her throat. His smirk deepened as he flicked a dagger between his fingers, the silver edge glinting even in the dim light.

“You’re bleeding,” he murmured, his voice silk and steel, edged with something she couldn’t name.

Rhia ignored the sting at her side, the damp warmth of blood seeping through her tunic. She refused to let him see her falter. Besides, she had suffered worse, much worse. “What do you want, Vael?”

He pushed off the wall with that infuriating, lazy grace of his, moving with the confidence of a man who knew he was dangerous. A man who made her pulse race and all for the wrong reasons. The dagger vanished into the folds of his coat, but his attention never wavered. 

“That’s funny, Valtris. I was about to ask you the same thing.”

She squared her shoulders, ignoring the way his presence coiled around her like smoke from a flame. “I don’t have time for games.”

“Good.” He stepped closer, close enough that the heat of him brushed against her skin. His smirk faded, replaced by something sharper, something that made her stomach tighten. “Neither do I.”

His voice was lower now, rougher, and gods help her, she hated that she noticed.

“You’ve made quite the mess out there,” he went on, his tone deceptively smooth, but his eyes—they were like tempered steel. “The king’s men are swarming the city like rats. Care to explain why?”

Rhia exhaled, weighing her options. She could lie, evade him. Or she could admit the truth—that she had been set up. That someone had betrayed her. That she had been stupid enough to let anyone get close enough to do so. 

Before she could answer, there was a thud against the door. A slow, measured knock.

Her blood turned to ice.

Kieran’s entire body went still, though she could feel the shift in his energy—like a blade drawn from its sheath. His hand brushed against hers as he reached for his weapon, his fingers warm and calloused. It was a fleeting touch, but it sent something sharp and unwanted skittering through her.

“We have company,” he murmured, his breath ghosting against her cheek.

Her pulse hammered. Not at the danger. Not entirely.

There was no shouting, no frantic pounding—whoever was outside didn’t want to be heard.

Kieran moved closer, his chest nearly touching hers as he reached past her, snuffing out the lone candle on the table. Darkness swallowed the room, save for the thin slats of moonlight leaking through the warped wood of the window.

Another knock. Three precise raps, then silence.

A signal.

Kieran’s jaw tightened.

“Friend of yours?” she whispered, her voice barely a breath between them.

His fingers found her wrist again—firmer this time, deliberate. “No.”

Her skin burned where he touched her, but she forced herself to focus. Forced herself to ignore the way his voice had dropped even lower, the way their bodies had been pressed together in the darkness.

Then—

A whisper of movement outside. The creak of leather. A low cough.

Not one. More.

Kieran’s grip on her wrist tightened—just for a second. A silent warning.

Rhia swallowed hard, the weight of him against her, the scent of leather and steel filling her senses. They weren’t alone. And if they weren’t careful, neither of them would make it out of this room alive.

And yet, even as danger closed in, she couldn’t ignore the fact that the real threat was standing right in front of her.

CHECK BACK NEXT WEEK FOR CHAPTER 3