Whispers of the Shadow Throne

She was summoned without her consent. But she''s choosing to stay.

Ysolde Carath is a mortal Dusk-Walker who has spent eight years guiding souls through the Veil at the Dominion''s border. When a fae king''s ward-claim pulls her across the boundary stones without explanation, she arrives in a kingdom held together by something that was never supposed to last this long: a thousand-year-old throne built on the bones of pressed and borrowed dead. The fracture in its seam has been growing for forty years. The grey districts have been spreading for months. And Morthyn Askarath, the last of his dynasty — four centuries old, twenty-three dead kings living in his skull, marks running jaw to collarbone — has known exactly who she is and what her Gift can do for far longer than she has been in his kingdom.

He is controlled. Precise. Managing everything, including himself, with the four-century discipline of a man who learned that anything less would cost him. She is furious, direct, and constitutionally incapable of accepting a managed version of the truth when the real one is available. What happens between them — in an archive at midnight, in the dark of a shadow-transit, on the floor of a throne hall at the second bell — was never supposed to happen. The working that will save his kingdom requires a bond that cannot be undone. He will lose everything that has defined him. She already knows. She is choosing it anyway.

Because the choice is not simply hers. And the fury is still present. And the Veil-Bond cannot be formed by proximity, by accident, or by anything other than will directed with full awareness of what it means.

They have five days.

Whispers of the Shadow Throne is a standalone dark fae king romantasy for readers who want their slow burn built on mutual precision, their banter to have teeth, and their happy ending fully earned through every ounce of the cost.