Death Bound (The Soulsworn Chronicles #1)

Chapter 35

Chapter Thirty-Five

The castle corridors twisted and turned like a labyrinth, each passage dimmer and more oppressive than the last. Since the wedding, the palace’s grandeur had lost its charm, the beauty of the gleaming walls and arched ceilings now feeling like a trap closing in on me. The light that once danced along the polished floors now seemed devoured by shadows, leaving everything cold and suffocating. Every hallway, every alcove, felt like it had eyes. And perhaps it did—after all, this place was crawling with them. Lyra and the other wives, always watching from the edges, their whispers trailing behind me like ghosts, waiting for a moment of weakness.

I couldn’t face them today. Not with the gnawing unease that had settled deep in my chest, growing heavier with every step I took. Their pointed stares, their calculating smiles—they were looking for a chink in my armor. I didn’t dare give them one.

So, I kept my head down, my cloak pulled tight around me as I slipped through the halls, keeping to the shadows. The palace felt like a living thing, a web of intrigue and deceit that I was still trying to navigate without getting caught. The wives had their own territories, their own secrets, and I had neither the strength nor the patience to cross paths with them. I was running from them, yes—but that wasn’t why my pulse was racing.

I needed to talk to Rhydian.

The conversation in the woods had stayed with me, gnawing at the corners of my mind. His words had raised more questions than they answered, leaving a knot of doubt tangled in my chest that I couldn’t shake loose.

But Rhydian hadn’t been where I expected to find him. He hadn’t been at the training grounds, where he was usually sparring or drilling with soldiers. Nor was he in the council chambers, where his advice was often sought for matters I couldn’t begin to understand. He’d vanished from the places I knew to look, and that only made my unease worse.

The door to his chambers loomed ahead, a thick slab of dark wood with iron fittings. Unlike the grand, polished doors of the rest of the castle, this one seemed more practical—solid and unwelcoming, like the man behind it. I hesitated for a moment, my hand hovering just above the handle. Was I crossing a line by coming here? By intruding into a space that was undeniably his?

I didn’t bother knocking. My hand gripped the iron handle, cold and unyielding, and I shoved the door open with more force than necessary.

Rhydian was there, exactly as I had feared he would be, leaning over his desk with that damnable calm. He didn’t acknowledge me at first, too focused on the ice falcon in front of him—a messenger construct, glimmering faintly in the dim light. Its delicate wings twitched as though it could sense the tension in the air, even if its creator could not.

The sight stopped me dead. For a moment, I just stood there, staring at him. At his hands, so sure and steady as they sealed the compartment on the falcon’s back. At his broad shoulders, tense with focus. At the parchment he’d just tucked away—the one I knew without question contained everything I’d told him in confidence.

“You’re sending word to the queen,” I said, my voice low but sharp.

Rhydian stilled. His shoulders stiffened just enough to betray him, but he didn’t turn. For a moment, he said nothing, and I let the silence stretch between us, heavy and suffocating. Finally, he spoke, his voice calm and infuriatingly controlled.

“Yes.”

I flinched at the simplicity of it, the ease with which he admitted it. My pulse roared in my ears, the fury surging like a tidal wave I could barely hold back.

“You’re not even going to pretend to deny it?” I demanded, my voice rising with every word. “You’re just standing there—sending her word about me—as if it’s nothing?”

Rhydian straightened then, turning to face me. His expression was unreadable, his dark eyes calm in a way that only made me angrier. “What good would lying do?”

“What good would any of this do?” I shot back, stepping closer, my fists clenched at my sides. “I trusted you, Rhydian. I told you things—things I’ve never told anyone. About Aeliana. About the dragon fire. And you—” My voice broke, and I forced myself to swallow the lump rising in my throat. “You just handed it all to her, didn’t you? Like it was nothing more than currency to trade.”

“It wasn’t nothing,” he said quietly, the faintest hint of tension creeping into his voice.

“Don’t you dare—” I took another step forward, heat rising to my cheeks despite the cold of the room. “Don’t you dare try to make this sound like it meant something to you. Because if it did, you wouldn’t have done this. You wouldn’t have taken the most agonizing moment of my life and handed it to her.”

Rhydian’s jaw tightened, his calm finally beginning to crack. “You don’t understand what you’re up against, Elara. The queen doesn’t just let go of her pawns. She sent you across an ocean, but her reach didn’t end at the shore. She’s watching, always watching, and if she thinks for a second you’re more dangerous than useful?—”

“Dangerous?” I cut him off, my voice trembling with a mixture of rage and heartbreak. “The only thing dangerous about me, Rhydian, is that I was foolish enough to believe you could be trusted.”

He flinched at that, a flicker of something—guilt, regret—passing through his eyes. “I told you from the beginning,” he said, his voice low but rough with frustration. “Everything I know, the queen knows. You chose to trust me anyway.”

“And I was stupid to do it!” I snapped, my chest heaving. “I should’ve known better. Of course you serve her. Of course you were going to run to her with everything I said, every vulnerability I laid bare.”

“Elara—”

“Do you know what it cost me to tell you about Aeliana?” I cut him off, my voice breaking. “To relive the moment she died in my arms—the moment I lost the only person in this world who truly knew me? I let you in, Rhydian. I let you see that part of me. And you…” My voice cracked, and I shook my head. “You turned it into a report. A weapon for the queen to use against me.”

“She doesn’t see it that way,” Rhydian said, his voice soft but firm. “What I told her—about your powers, about Aeliana—was to make you look manageable. If she thinks you’re unstable, if she sees you as a threat, she won’t hesitate to destroy you.”

“Manageable?” I spat the word like poison. “That’s what you think I want? To be manageable ? To be something she can control and manipulate?”

“I don’t think you want it,” Rhydian said, stepping closer, his dark eyes burning into mine. “I think it’s the only way to keep you alive.”

I stared at him, my chest heaving with the effort of holding back the tears threatening to spill over. “This is why I can’t trust you,” I said, my voice trembling. “Because no matter how much you pretend to care, you’ll always choose her.”

“I don’t see you as a pawn,” he said, his voice rough with frustration.

“Then what do you see me as?” I demanded, taking another step forward until we were standing toe to toe. “Because right now, all I feel like is another sacrifice waiting to happen.”

His gaze softened, and for a moment, the anger in his eyes gave way to something raw and unguarded. “You’re not a piece to me, Elara,” he said quietly. “You’re…” He broke off, his voice trailing into silence.

“What?” I pressed, my voice cracking under the weight of my own emotions. “What am I to you, Rhydian?”

His hand flexed at his side, as though he wanted to reach for me but couldn’t. “You’re not nothing,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t have the luxury of keeping you safe without…”

“Without betraying me,” I finished for him, my voice cold.

Rhydian flinched again, but he didn’t deny it.

The silence between us was deafening, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on me like a stone. I hated him at that moment—for the betrayal, for the way his words made my heart ache despite everything. But I hated myself more for the realization that was sinking in, slow and sharp and devastating.

I was falling for him.

And it didn’t matter. Because no matter how much I wanted to believe otherwise, Rhydian would always belong to her .

“For now,” I said quietly, stepping back toward the door, my voice trembling. “For now, I’ll believe you’re trying to protect me. But don’t think for a second that I’ll ever forgive you for what you’ve done.”

Rhydian didn’t stop me as I turned and left, but his voice followed me, soft and raw with something I couldn’t bear to face.

“For what it’s worth,” he said, “I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

I didn’t look back. But as the door closed behind me, the tears I’d fought so hard to hold back finally spilled over.