The King's Shadow Escapes Her Bond

Chapter 7

Word Count: 824 | Released on: Today at 09:17

a P

ck under my cot when the doo

pped from its hinges by

he hall. He was a storm of fury, his black formal wear disheveled, his eyes bu

the celebration.

e from the table and into the sleeve of my tunic. My face remained a blank canvas

hand shot out and clamped around my wrist-my r

cker of pain shot up my arm, but I didn't flinch. I didn't

ow, dangerous growl. His hot breath, laced with wine,

r. My voice, when it came, wa

argument would have. It was like he had thrown a punch an

eving laugh. "Don't lie to me, Ar

eld nothing. I was a void. He was seeing his own re

ence was my only shiel

y back hit the cold stone wall with a dull thud. He followed, trapping me, his large body caging me in

meant to be daggers. "Learn some grace. Some dignity. She

y eyelashes fluttered. It was

t he wanted. A reaction. Any reaction. Tears, anger, a plea. Any

ot give i

of something other than anger in his expression. It was a sliver of helplessness. Of confusion.

eyes and saw nothing. N

frayed as it was, gave him not

emor of something that felt like panic br

ll room like a caged wolf, his energy too large, too violent for the confined s

stool, then returned to him.

ched out, his fingers surprisingly gentle as he

port to the Northern Wall. And if I ever see that dead look on your

out of the ruined doorway, the sound of his heavy boots fad

d down the wall, my legs no longer able to sup

uncurle

so tightly into my palm that it had lef

t scare me. It s

leave.

Chapter End

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open

The King's Shadow Escapes Her Bond

Xi Yue Werewolf

“For twelve years, I was King Damien's secret blade and his most loyal shadow. I took silver daggers to my chest and shed my blood to clear his path to the throne, all for the promise that I would one day be his Luna. But at his victory feast, the man I loved held the hand of a highborn noblewoman and announced her as his fated mate. In front of the entire laughing court, Damien looked at me with absolute coldness. He publicly stripped me of my rank as his personal protector. "You are demoted to the Northern Wall." He threw a cheap iron guard's badge at my feet like I was a stray dog. Later that night, he kicked down my door, pinned me against the wall, and threatened to make me regret ever defying him with my silent obedience. He wanted me to cry, to beg, to show him I was still his pathetic, devoted pawn. It turned out that while I was suffering in the dark for him, he had been secretly spending his winters courting her. My twelve years of life-and-death sacrifices were nothing but a joke, a convenient stepping stone he was now desperate to throw away. I didn't shed a single tear. Instead, I crushed his family crest in my bleeding hand, packed my dagger, and climbed out the window into the night. I was done being his weapon. But just as I slipped into the shadows of the royal garden to escape the Citadel forever, a cold, commanding voice cut through the darkness. "Who's there?"”