Page 36 of The Crowned Queen

You would have left her there? The shadows accused, their voices drawing together. With him⁠—

“What choice was there?” Loren said, his voice low. “You couldn’t fight him.”

The shadows hissed, crashing around him like a wave. The nearest group of refugees shifted nervously, a few of them casting wary glances at the roiling darkness. A child buried her face in her mother’s leg, clutching at her skirts. All of them had grown up with the Shadowed Veil looming over them. With whispered tales of twisted monsters and terrible power.

“You have to keep them under control,” a familiar voice warned.

Loren glanced back over his shoulder, scowling at Maerin. “Do you think I don’t know that?”

He should be out there—helping. But no one wanted help from the fae with the hissing, spitting shadows surrounding him. Not even if he were their king.

“Well, you’re certainly not doing it.” She stepped up beside him, a careful eye on the shadows clinging sullenly to his legs. “How long have they been like this?”

Loren took a deep breath, consciously gathering them back in. “Since she was taken.”

“And it’s getting worse, isn’t it?” She frowned, her silver eyebrows pinching together. “Is that what happened last night?”

“Partially,” Loren growled. “What does it matter?”

“I think it matters a great deal if you intend to try again,” Maerin said.

Loren stared at her. “We failed,” he said. “The Shaw estate was destroyed. They moved her and I can’t pinpoint where without wandering around the city—which Finn won’t let me do with Arcanum forces out in these numbers.”

“You consider destroying the Shaw estate a failure?” Maerin cocked her head, considering him. “I think it’s the greatest blow we’ve struck against the Arcanum in years.”

“Nyra died,” Loren snapped. “Your fighters died. For nothing.”

“People die in wars, Shadowbane.”

Maerin glanced across the room, her gaze softening as it landed on her daughter. Maya wove through the refugees, offering blankets from a stack taller than she was.

“It doesn’t stop us from doing what is necessary to make a better world for them,” she said, nodding toward Maya. “But I am sorry about your weatherworker. I met her once or twice. She seemed like a good person.”

“Did you want something?” Loren asked.

“Actually, yes.” Maerin turned back to him, the softness vanishing beneath that steel-edged exterior. “I wanted to know if you were reconsidering your goals, given how—” she pursed her lips “—unsettled you appear.”

“My goals?” Loren stiffened. “Are you talking about rescuing my mate from the monster imprisoning her?”

“I am.” To her credit, Maerin didn’t flinch when the shadows snapped out, pulling back a breath away from breaking skin. “Because this—” she waved a hand at his shadows “—isn’t enough. We’d have defeated the Arcanum years ago if moaning and weeping was all it took.”

“I assume you have a suggestion?” Loren bit out.

“I do.” Maerin took a step forward, unbothered by the shadows pressing in around them. “You are your mate’s best chance at rescue. But you can’t save her by letting your bond drive you into foolish, desperate choices like facing Jaxon Shaw alone. There’s a tea you can drink⁠—”

The shadows hissed, rearing back.

“You want me to block her out?” Loren demanded, echoing their ire. “She’ll think I abandoned her.”

“Well—” Maerin shrugged, like it made no difference to her. “Your way isn’t working. All that power and you still couldn’t beat one human mage.”

Loren had nothing he could say to that.

“She’ll forgive you once you get her out,” Maerin said more gently. “But only if you save her.”

No. He couldn’t do it. The cold absence of Araya’s presence suddenly felt enormous, like Jaxon Shaw had carved his beating heart out of his chest. The mate bond was sacred—a gift from the Absent Goddess. Araya had chosen him. After everything they’d been through, he couldn’t—wouldn’t—reject her like that.

The shadows shuddered, swelling around his feet. Maerin said something else—but the roaring in Loren’s head drowned her out.