A Bargain of Shadow and Flame
Chapter 2
A Bargain in Shadows
Kieran
Magic ripples through my shadows as I watch the mortal thief—Nyra—try to hide her shiver. The bargain settles between us like frost on glass, delicate yet binding. Her pulse flutters beneath my fingers where they still clasp her hand, quick as a caged bird’s. But there’s steel in her spine and defiance in those emerald eyes, even now.
Fascinating.
I study the mortal before me, her small hand still caught in my grasp. The magic of our bargain lingers in the air, a faint shimmer where our shadows and fire touched. I hadn’t expected her to survive this long. When I first sensed an intruder slipping through my wards, I’d assumed it would end like all the others. A swift capture. A quicker death.
And yet, here she stands, defying both instinct and fate.
It isn’t just her skill—though even I can admit her precision is remarkable for a human. No, it’s something else. The way the stone reacted to her touch. The way its ancient fire flared as if recognizing something within her. Something lost.
For centuries, I’ve searched. Hunted. Followed the faintest trails and forgotten whispers of power that should no longer exist. I had believed it would never be found. That what I sought had faded into legend. But then this thief—a mere mortal—broke into my palace, touched my treasure, and woke something I thought long extinguished.
She has no idea what she is.
No idea what she could become.
I should kill her. It would be the safest course before whatever slumbers within her awakens. And yet…
I step closer, relaxing my grip on her fingers, watching the way she tenses, as if preparing to run. A corner of my mouth lifts. Clever little thief. She knows she cannot escape me, even, so she considers it.
I admire that kind of defiance.
More than that—I need it.
For the first time in decades, something like anticipation coils in my chest, cold and sharp. The game has changed. And I refuse to let her slip away before I understand what she is.
So I let the bargain stand. Let her believe she has won something, when in truth, she has stepped deeper into my web.
And if I am right about what lingers in her blood, about what stirs beneath her skin…
Then this night is only the beginning.
“Follow me,” I command, releasing her hand and turning toward the door. Losing contact shouldn’t bother me, yet my skin tingles where we touched. The residual heat from whatever power she possesses.
“Where are we going?” She doesn’t move, her voice sharp with suspicion.
I glance back, letting my shadows curl warning tendrils around her ankles. “Unless you’d prefer the dungeons, you’re coming to your new quarters. The ones befitting my personal spy.”
“Right next to yours, I assume?” The sarcasm in her tone does nothing to mask her unease. “How … cozy.”
“Precisely.” I smile, showing just enough fang to remind her of what I am. “I prefer to keep valuable assets close.”
She bristles at the word ‘asset,’ just as I knew she would. “I’m not your property.”
“No,” I agree, continuing down the moonlit corridor. “You’re something far more interesting.”
My shadows alert me to her movements. The way she glances at the heart-stone one last time before following, how her fingers brush the daggers at her thighs. Good instincts, even if they’re useless against me. But it’s what my magic can’t sense that intrigues me most. The way the ancient wards bend around her, like water parting around a stone. The lingering warmth in the air where she passes.
Dragon magic. After centuries of searching, to find it here, in a mortal thief, of all people. The irony would be delicious if it weren’t so potentially catastrophic.
We climb the grand staircase in silence, though I note how she memorizes each turn, each potential escape route. When we reach the royal wing, her steps falter.
“These are noble quarters.”
“Did you expect servant’s lodging?”
She snorts. “I expected a cell with better-than-average furnishings. This is…”
“Suspicious?” I supply, amused despite myself. “You’ll find, little thief, that I am full of surprises.”
“Stop calling me that.”
I ignore her and pause before an ornate door, carved with shadow work patterns that shift and dance in the dim light. “Your chambers.”
She eyes the door like it might bite. “And yours?”
I gesture to the matching door across the hall. “Close enough to hear if you try anything foolish. Far enough to maintain propriety.”
A flush colors her cheeks, but her voice stays steady. “Worried about your reputation, Your Highness?”
“Hardly.” I step closer, enjoying how she forces herself not to retreat. “But you should be worried about yours. I will be watching, waiting for you to make a mistake. One misstep, one hint that you’re not worth my protection…” I let the threat hang unspoken.
“I don’t need your protection.” She lifts her chin, defiant to the last. “I survived just fine before you.”
The laugh escapes before I can stop it. “Did you? Yet you bargained for the same. Explain how you ended up in my vault, touching an artifact that could have burned the soul from your body if you weren’t…” I catch myself, but her gaze sharpens.
“If I wasn’t what?”
I wave a hand, and her chamber door swings open. “Get some rest. Training begins at dawn.”
“Training?” Now there’s genuine alarm in her voice. “What kind of training?”
I let my smile turn predatory. “The kind that will keep you alive in my court. Unless you’d prefer to face the vipers without knowing their venom?”
She mutters something that sounds suspiciously like a curse. “Fine. But I want answers tomorrow. About the stone, about what you sensed, about all of it.”
“Careful, little spy.” I lean closer, close enough to see the gold flecks in her eyes, to catch the scent of night air and adrenaline on her skin. “Answers in my court come with prices of their own.”
Her breath catches, but she doesn’t back down. “Everything has a price. I learned that long before I met you.”
“Did you?” I trace one finger along her jaw, feeling the heat that rises to meet my touch. “Then here’s your first lesson in court politics. Nothing is more expensive than the truth. Speaking of … Who hired you?”
Nyra holds my gaze for a long moment, weighing her options. I sense the gears turning in her mind, calculating the risks. Defiance flickers in her emerald eyes, but she’s smart enough to know she can’t walk away from this without giving me something.
Her shoulders tense, as if bracing for a blow she can’t avoid. “I don’t know exactly who put out the contract,” she admits. “But the job came through a broker. Someone who deals in work for those who don’t want to be named.”
I arch a brow. “A name, thief.”
She exhales, jaw tightening before she spits it out like a curse. “Orien Vale.”
Orien. Interesting. A man who moves between worlds with quiet precision, known for arranging dealings between mortals and fae alike. He never reveals his true employers, never works without purpose. If he was involved, then the one pulling the strings desperately wished to stay hidden.
And that only makes this all the more intriguing.
Nyra studies my face, searching for a reaction. I let none show. Instead, I step back, releasing her from the weight of my scrutiny. For now.
“Very good,” I murmur, letting the shadows around me settle. “Consider this your first useful act in my service.”
She scowls at that, but says nothing. Smart girl. I’ve gotten what I needed—for the moment. The rest can wait until dawn.
I step back before she can respond, letting shadows swallow me whole. But I remain unseen, watching as she enters her chambers. Only when the door closes behind her, do I allow myself to frown.
The magic in her blood is awakening faster than I anticipated. If I’m not careful, she’ll burn us both before I can unravel the mystery she presents. And yet…
I flex my fingers, remembering the feel of her hand in mine, the way our magic clashed and sparked. Dragon fire and shadow, light and dark. A volatile yet intriguing combination.
Tomorrow, I’ll begin teaching her to survive my court. To spy, to dance, to play the game of shadows and secrets. But first, I need to consult the ancient texts hidden in my private library. Because if the legends are true—if dragon magic runs in her veins—then this mortal thief might be more than just an asset.
She might be the key to everything I’ve spent centuries searching for.
Or she might be the flame that reduces my careful plans to ashes.
The question is: which will prove more dangerous? Her power, or my fascination with the woman who wields it.
My private chambers seem oddly empty as I materialize within them, the shadows retreating to dance along the walls. I sense Nyra moving in her room across the hall. Pacing, restless as a caged animal. She knows she’s trapped, even if her cage is lined with silk.
The heart-stone pulses in my pocket where I’d slipped it before retiring to my quarters. Even through the spelled fabric meant to dampen its power, I feel its heat. Strange. For centuries, it lay dormant in my vault, nothing more than a pretty paperweight. Until she touched it.
I place it on my desk, watching red light ripple beneath its surface. “What secrets are you hiding, little thief?”
Moving to my study, I trace the spines of ancient texts lining the walls, searching for answers. Most are forbidden, records of the time before the courts, when dragons were guardians and kept everything in balance. My brother had been obsessed with these histories. Before he had been murdered, he’d claimed to have found something revolutionary in their pages.
Something about mortal bloodlines and hidden power.
I pull a heavy tome from the shelf, my fingers brushing over the worn leather cover stamped with an ancient sigil. My brother’s mark.
A phantom echo of our last conversation stirs in my mind. You don’t understand, Kieran. The bloodline didn’t vanish—it was hidden. Woven into mortal ancestry, locked away until…
Until what? He had never finished that thought. Never had the chance.
I exhale, shaking off the weight of memory. But the truth lingers like smoke: whatever Nyra awakened tonight, whatever stirred in her blood, my brother had been searching for the same thing.
And it had gotten him killed.
A knock at my door interrupts my thoughts. “Enter.”
Lady Elira, my spymaster, glides in on silent feet. Her silver hair marks her as one of the winter-kissed, though she’s served the Shadow Court longer than most can remember. “The wards detected unusual magic during the theft attempt. I came as soon as I could.”
“You missed the excitement.” I tap the heart-stone. “It seems our bait caught something unexpected.”
Her silver eyes narrow. “The thief survived touching it?”
“More than survived.” I summon a tendril of shadow, watching it recoil from the stone’s pulsing light. “She woke it.”
Lady Elira goes still. In all my centuries, I’ve never seen her shocked until now. “Impossible. Unless…” She stops, choosing her words carefully. “Your brother’s research…”
“May not have been as foolish as we thought.” I pace the length of my study, unable to contain my restless energy. “She has no idea what she is, Elira. No training, no control. Just raw power waiting to explode.”
“Which makes her dangerous.” She moves to the window, gazing toward the distant border where the Dawn Court’s territory begins. “If they learn of her existence—”
“They won’t.” The words come out sharper than intended. “She’s under my protection now.”
“A bargain?” When I nod, she sighs. “Risky. If she’s truly what we suspect, her magic could burn right through any oath.”
“Then we’ll have to ensure she has reason to stay without one.” I pause by a mirror, studying my reflection. The prince of shadows, they call me. The one who sees all, knows all, controls all. Yet here I am, gambling everything on a mortal thief with dragon fire in her veins.
“The court won’t like this,” Elira warns. “Housing a mortal in the royal wing, training her personally … They’ll see it as weakness.”
“They need not know.” I smile, though there’s no warmth in it. “Though, should they find out … It’s been too long since I reminded them why they fear me.”
“And the girl? What happens when she discovers what she is?”
I think of Nyra’s defiant eyes, the way she stood her ground even when surrounded by my shadows. “She’s stronger than she looks. She’ll adapt.”
“Or she’ll burn us all to ash.” She moves toward the door, then pauses. “Careful, Kieran. Dragon fire isn’t the only thing that burns.”
Elira’s words linger in the dim silence of my study, the weight of dragon fire and forgotten bloodlines pressing against my thoughts. I exhale, fingers drumming against the ancient tome in my grasp.
Before I can respond, she tilts her head, silver eyes sharp with unspoken challenge. “What if she chooses to defy you?”
It’s a fair question. One that I cannot afford to answer carelessly.
Nyra is no ordinary spy, no simple thief I can leash with threats and coin. She has already defied expectations, slipping through my wards, surviving the heart-stone’s touch. She is something new—a force of potential wrapped in mortal unpredictability. And if she ever realizes what she is—what she could become—then control will no longer be an option. My shadows may not be enough to hold her.
I let a slow, deliberate smile curve my lips. “Then I suppose I’ll just have to make sure she has no other option.”
I wait until she’s gone before allowing my mask to slip. Crossing to the balcony, I gaze across my darkened kingdom. Somewhere in the distance, dawn approaches, though sunlight never quite reaches the Shadow Court. We prefer our secrets wrapped in eternal twilight. But now there’s a spark of true fire in our midst. I close my eyes, focusing on the subtle pulse of magic across the hall. Nyra has finally stopped pacing, though her energy still burns bright against my senses. Like a star fallen into shadow.
Tomorrow, I’ll begin molding her into something useful. A spy, a weapon, a key to power long lost. I’ll teach her to dance our deadly games without stumbling, to speak our silvered lies without flinching. To survive.
But tonight, I allow myself to wonder, what might she teach me in return?
The heart-stone pulses once more, as if in answer. And for the first time in centuries, I feel something dangerously close to hope.
Or perhaps it’s just the first flames of destruction.