Is Rowan In Queen Of Shadows の小説・ストーリー

"What actions did you take?" “I’m unsure.” My voice was hardly more than a whisper. Rowan emerged from behind us, panting and covered in blood. "It's not finished." We gazed upward and my heart halted. The shadows were reshaping. However, these weren't Dahlia's this time. They belonged to me.

“We don’t know what you’re talking about.” The woman tilted her head. “Don’t insult us, Mara. We felt her rise. The light burned through every veil between here and the old kingdoms. She belongs to the Shadow Council now. Give her willingly or we will take her from your corpses.” Rowan roared as he shifted back to his human form, blood streamed from a gash across his ribs. He planted himself between the woman and Mara with his naked chest heaving. “You’re not touching her.” The silver-haired woman smiled cruelly. “Brave. But it’s pointless now.”

I staggered, clutching my head. Logan’s voice was faint. “Don’t listen to him.” I blinked, trying to breathe. “Rowan, stop. Please.” He hesitated, just long enough for Logan to move. In one motion, Logan drove his hand into the dirt. The mark on his wrist flared, and the ground answered. Light burst from the cracks, blinding. Rowan screamed, the crown dissolving in his hands. The shadow shattered like smoke in sunlight. When it cleared, Rowan was gone.

“She made you kill my brother, Asher. How can you not want this?” I whispered; my hands flush against his broad chest. My voice was back to normal, but the sickly veins of darkness crawling up my fingers remained. They’d gotten further this time around, creeping past my knuckles and onto the tops of my hands. The Shadows were silent, bloated on Rowena’s blood. There were no whispers of fixing this because this time, the damage was irreversible. Sprawled out in the dirt, covered in her own blood, Rowena muttered, “I didn’t make him do anything.”

That's when I spot them – Nyx and Rowan, huddled close in the shadows of an old oak tree. I creep closer, my enhanced senses picking up snippets of their conversation. "...weakness in the eastern border," Rowan is saying, his voice low and urgent. "If we strike there..." "Excellent," Nyx purrs, her fingers trailing down Rowan's arm. "You've been most helpful, darling. The Queen will be pleased." My heart races. Queen? What queen? And why is Rowan divulging pack secrets to this obvious spy? Before I can hear more, a searing pain lances through my head. I stagger, barely managing to stifle a cry as the world around me begins to blur.

“His b@stard son was never meant to see that. Oh well. Guards… You know what to do.” The guards shifted and lunged toward Rowan, who zapped out of existence, killing many in a blurred shadow. While Rowan was distracted by the guards, the Queen strolled around the King’s body until she was outside the doors Rowan entered. “Where is that mate of yours?” She pondered aloud. The Queen's words distracted Rowan enough for one of the werewolves to tear into his shoulder. He hissed at the pain, but his thoughts were on his wife. She doesn't know what has happened.

“Does it?” I don’t answer. He doesn’t need me to. He’s asking to hear himself speak. He reaches into his coat and pulls out a small violet glass injector. Vesperbane. My breath catches anyway, sharp and involuntary. Rowan watches it happen, the tiny betrayal of my lungs and his smile turns pleased. “Ah,” he murmurs. “You remember.” I force myself not to look at it. “What do you want.” Rowan’s tone stays light. “The Queen dead.”

In blood that isn’t there. The temperature drops twenty degrees. Rowan turns, and for the first time since I met him, the glamour slips. His eyes are galaxies dying. Rowan (voice like a graveyard): “Congratulations, little queen. You just claimed the eleventh piece without moving from your seat.” He opens his hand. The black-glass shard is no longer in my pocket. It’s floating above his palm, spinning slowly, my name burning white-hot across its surface. Rowan (soft, almost sad):

“If the First Queen bound something beneath her shrine, it explains why the Shadow Court wants this lake open.” “Then what’s breaking free?” Gemma asked. Before Kara could answer, the air shifted. A faint, cold wind circled us, and the water in the cracks began to glow silver-blue. My wolf bristled instantly. “Stay behind me,” I warned. The glow intensified, forming into something almost human. A silhouette stepped out of the light, familiar, broad-shouldered, calm even in death. Gemma whispered his name first. “Rowan…” Kara stumbled back, tears instantly filling her eyes. “No… it can’t.”