Kingdom of Silk

  Kingdom Shifter Series

  Book 4

  Quinn Loftis

  Copyright © 2025 by Quinn Loftis Books LLC

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  For all of those who don’t like spiders, but read it anyways.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Quinn’s Bookshelf

  Prologue

  “There have been times in my life when I really needed to evaluate my life choices. This is definitely one of those times. Although if I evaluate them right now, I’m going to realize how dumb I’ve been and then I’ll be depressed. Depression and being wrapped up in a giant ass spider web just doesn’t seem like a good time.” ~ Maddie

  Maddie surfaced from a darkness that clung to her like thick oil, her mind slow to unscramble from dreams that felt much too real. She blinked, but the blackness didn’t lift. For a split second, she wondered if she’d gone blind, or if she was still dreaming—caught somewhere between waking and a nightmare. The air was thick—damp, earthy, with an undertone of something sharp and sweet that made her think of overripe grapes and old magic.

  Wait. Why on earth would she know what magic smells like? Did magic have a smell? It must or she wouldn’t have just conjured that thought up out of her butt. Maybe her brain was shutting down from being tightly wrapped up in the sticky web and it was causing her thoughts to be completely irrational.

  “Or hell, magic just might have a smell,” she muttered to herself.

  She tried to move but that simply was not an option. Her arms, her legs, her waist—everything was wrapped, pinned, immobilized. Her cheek was mashed against warmth and muscle, and a familiar, smoky scent threaded through the sour air.

  Roan.

  Memories crashed in: she was supposed to be meeting the other shamans—her first diplomatic mission as a potential new shaman, the first human. Roan had insisted they start with the Kingdom of Silk, and she’d wondered why, though he wouldn’t say. He’d only told her that Lyric, Silk’s shaman, knew to expect them.

  She remembered the journey to the vineyard estate: endless rows of grapevines marching across rolling hills, their leaves heavy with dew and fruit. Spider webs hung between the vines, glistening silver in the sun. Roan had explained, “Webs keep the bugs off the grapes. And it’s very effective.” Maddie had found it beautiful and unsettling, the way the webs shimmered and trembled in the wind.

  Roan had been even quieter than usual as they approached the manor house—a sprawling, elegant structure that was in complete contrast to the black curtains that framed the inside of the windows. Its balcony windows were open and the rich fabric flowed out from the slight breeze beckoning them to enter—if they dared. As they stepped through the stunning double doors, the air in the entry hall was cool and sweet, carrying the faint perfume of pressed grapes and polished wood. Everything was dark. The floor was a polished ebony marble. The walls a deep, rich shade of red. The wooden rail of the massive staircase was a dark mahogany, as was all the wood that framed the entryways to other rooms. As her eyes gazed at the dark opulence, she couldn’t help but feel like the bright exterior of the mansion was a trick to invite and gain the trust of a person to get them to enter. A beautiful trap, much like the glistening, crystal-like threads of a spider’s web.

  A servant with an inhumanly smooth gait greeted them. Dressed in a simple black dress buttoned up to the neck with three-quarter length sleeves and a skirt that hit just below the knee, the servant led them through marble-floored corridors lined with paintings of silk-draped royalty and shadowy forests. Maddie’s nerves buzzed with every step, eyes flicking to the corners where she noticed webs clung to the red walls. As beautiful as the place was, the spider webs made the “creep” factor go through the roof.

  “We’ll wait for the king and queen in the sunroom,” the servant said, voice as soft as velvet. “Lyric will join you shortly.”

  “There’s a sunroom?” Maddie asked, as her eyes widened.

  The servant blinked at her.

  “I just mean, well, this,” Maddie stumbled, motioning to the atmosphere around them, “doesn’t exactly scream sunny relaxation.”

  Maddie wandered to the sunroom’s glass wall. The ceiling was black, which somehow made the light even more illuminating. She marveled at the view of the vineyard beyond, the way sunlight caught on the webs strung between the trellises, painting the air with rainbows. Roan stood nearby, arms folded, gaze never straying from the door.

  Lyric didn’t come. Instead, a different servant appeared, in the same black dress the other had worn—her smile sharp, her eyes too dark. “Would you like a tour of the house while you wait? The king is very proud of the new cellars and our silkworks.”

  Roan hesitated, but Maddie, eager to see more, agreed. They followed the servant through winding halls, past rooms full of delicate glass and ancient books, down a twisting staircase that led to a long corridor lined with black silk-draped windows. That’s when the ambush came without warning.

  One moment, Maddie was at the banister, admiring its intricate webwork, despite its creepiness, marveling at how the strands sparkled like diamonds. Next, something cold and sticky wrapped around her arms, pinning them to her sides so fast she barely had time to gasp.

  Roan spun, a snarl on his lips, magic sparking at his fingertips. The servant’s face twisted, her true nature revealed—black eyes, too many joints in her fingers. Giant legs exploded from her hips, her legs simply disappeared. From the waist up, she remained in ‌human form, except for an “otherness” that seemed to cling to her. Then, more spider-people stepped from the shadows, their faces masked and unreadable. Their legs moved in the icky way that spiders did, making her cringe.

  Maddie tried to fight, but another strand of silk whistled through the air, yanking her feet out from under her. Roan surged forward, fighting like a cornered wolf, but the numbers overwhelmed him. One of the soldiers cracked him across the temple with a web-wrapped staff. Maddie’s scream echoed off the stone walls as Roan crumpled, his eyes rolling back, and then the world snapped to black.

  Now, in the pitch dark, her breath stuttered shallow—panic clawing high in her throat. Maddie didn’t enjoy feeling trapped. She didn’t like her limbs being restrained, and with every shallow inhale she felt the panic rising higher and higher. She was in a full-body straightjacket courtesy of some overgrown mutant arachnid. Of all the ways she’d imagined dying, “spider shifter’s lunch special” had not made the bucket list. She tried to cling to the humor of that morbid thought, attempting to calm herself and not have a panic attack that would in no way help the situation.

  Closing her eyes and centering herself with slower breaths, she focused on the warm and solid presence pressed to her cheek. His breath rising and falling with a slow, steady rhythm. At least she wasn’t alone in her spider straightjacket. Maddie let out a shaky breath—well, as much as she could with her face mashed into his chest and a mouthful of dust and questionable spider residue. The steady thump beneath her ear grounded her. Roan was alive. They both were. At least for now.

  “If I suffocate in here, I’d like my tombstone to read, ‘She died as she lived: mouthy and stuck to the wrong guy,’” she muttered, voice muffled against him.

  “You’re not suffocating,” he finally replied, his voice a scratchy whisper, rough edges softened by exhaustion. “You’re just panicking. Breathe slower, and deeper. And how many ‘wrong guys’ have you been with?” There was a bite to his tone that made Maddie want to retreat from him, but since she was literally stuck to him, that wasn’t an option.

  “Oh, I’m panicking?” She tried for flippant, but her words wobbled. “I thought maybe I was having an allergic reaction to all this . . . ambiance. And my dating life is not up for discussion.”

  He let out a slow exhale that stirred the hair at her temple. “On that, we’ll have to agree to disagree. Rest assured, Nushawani, it will be up for discussion.” The command was gentle, but left no room for argument.

  That was too bad for him because Maddie didn’t do commands. Especially not from a man. Was she a raging feminist? Not-exactly. She’d been raised by a strong, independent woman who’d done just fine with no male persuasion in her life. And Maddie could do the same. And she sure as hell would not be told what she had to discuss with someone she’d known for only a couple of weeks.

  “As charming as that invitation is,” she said in her sweetest voice, “I'm going to decline politely.”

  “Whatever you need to tell yourself to feel like you’re the one in control,” Roan said, his voice deep and calm. As if she hadn’t just shut him down cold. “Now,
if you could just hold that sharp tongue of yours for a moment and let me think.”

  Her frustration rose as she struggled against the bindings. Now, not only was she feeling claustrophobic, she was feeling a tad homicidal.

  If she didn’t talk, she’d scream. If she screamed, she’d probably choke on her own spit and die, which would be embarrassing, even for her. The webbing was everywhere. She had to focus on something other than the panic rising, and as Roan shifted, she realized her chest was pressed so tightly to him she could count the steady, unhurried thud of his heart. The scent of him—smoke, sweat, magic—cut through the rot and silk. And dang he did smell good. How had she not noticed that before they’d been forced together by psychopathic spiders who were probably going to eat them? And how had she not noticed how firm his chest was? Despite the small size of her girls, they were soft, especially compared to him. For some reason, this made her want to press closer to him. Which simply pissed her off more. Being mad was good. That meant she wasn’t focused on being scared. So, Maddie let herself run with the anger.

  “Since we’re on the train of ‘I’m going to speak my mind whether or not you want to hear it,’ I would like to point out that this is sort of your fault.” Okay, had that made her sound like a petulant child? A tad. But, he’d ordered her to discuss the guys she’d dated. Joke’s on him, Maddie didn’t date.

  “Right,” Roan said, his tone bored. “Because I made the spiders attack us and wrap us in their butt floss.”

  “I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Maddie’s voice rose a notch.

  “I don’t repeat myself.”

  Maddie’s mouth dropped open, but then snapped closed when she remembered he couldn’t see her look of outrage. “When you say things like ‘wrap us in their butt floss,’ you most certainly repeat yourself, sir. And you explain.”

  Roan let out a huff that was half exasperation, half the beginnings of a laugh, though he did seem to do his best to smother it. “Spider silk comes out of their—look, do you really want the anatomy lesson right now, Nushawani?”

  “Honestly, I’d take an anatomy lesson over the existential dread I’m currently experiencing,” Maddie shot back, rolling her eyes though he couldn’t see it. “And for the record, ‘Nushawani’ sounds like a disease you get from licking subway handrails.”

  She felt his chest move under her cheek, like he was trying not to laugh. “I already told you, it means ‘new Shaman’ in our language.”

  Maddie went quiet for a second, letting that settle over her. She’d been surprised at what the word meant, simply because when Roan called her that, it sounded more like an endearment. She would not admit that she’d been disappointed. “Still sounds like a disease.”

  He said nothing, but she could feel the way his body relaxed just a little.

  A heavy silence settled between them. Somewhere to their left, something skittered across stone. Maddie tensed, even as Roan pressed a little closer—as if he couldn’t help but want to protect her despite how badly she seemed to irritate him. She tried not to let hope trickle in. Maybe if they were quiet, the spider folk would forget about them entirely, and they’d just rot here, cocooned together for all eternity. Romantic.

  Minutes—or hours, it was impossible to tell—slipped by. Maddie’s mind wandered, unwilling and wild: back to Lola and Katy. Were they alive? Had they stopped Azure? Maddie swallowed hard, guilt and fear tangling in her chest. If anything had happened to them⁠—

  The cocoon suddenly shuddered. Maddie froze. A sliver of light—faint, gold, and sticky-sweet—slipped in as a spider folk attendant, silent as breath, eased open a seam in the webbing. The small amount of light allowed Maddie to see that the attendant had slid a small vial through the gap, the glass sticky with nectar that glowed faintly in the dark.

  Maddie leaned back and could see Roan’s face, and it was as if she’d forgotten how handsome he was. His rugged beauty was a bit of a shock after having been in the dark. Swirling silver eyes that nearly glowed stared down at her, full of questions she couldn’t quite decipher. His angular jaw was clenched as his full lips were drawn tight across his face. His brow furrowed deep as he continued to stare at her.

  “For nourishment,” the attendant whispered, voice both kind and inhuman. She indicated the vial.

  “Me first,” Roan barked. His voice felt like a slap. “If that’s poisonous, my body will be able to handle it better than yours,” he explained.

  “Thanks,” Maddie said dryly. “Because I really want to be cocooned next to a dead body.” Why was she annoyed that he was actually protecting her and not simply demanding the first drink because he was an asshat?

  “Your faith in me is touching,” Roan said, before the vial touched his lips and tilted ever so slightly.

  After at least a minute of staring at the shaman, waiting to see if his head would explode or blood would ooze from his eyes, ears, and nose, Roan declared it safe for Maddie.

  The servant placed it to her lips so Maddie could sip. The nectar tasted like honey and something wild, a jolt of energy threading through her limbs. She grimaced but drank until it was empty. Although she felt an odd sense of satisfaction, like the feeling after eating a meal, she didn’t feel any extra strength. She just felt nourished.

  “I guess this means they don’t want us dead yet. Perhaps they want to fatten us up before they eat us,” Maddie said, her sarcasm a flimsy shield.

  The attendant didn’t respond. The seam was sealed, and they were left in the stifling dark once more.

  Maddie licked her lips. “How long do you think they’re planning on keeping us as human cocoons?”

  Roan’s tone was flat. “Honestly, I have no clue why they took us to begin with. They have to know this will start a war between them and Kingdom of Claw. Whatever KOS’s reason is, it must be worth risking the wrath of Taras and other rulers.”

  “Comforting. You know, I really thought the diplomatic slash religious life would have more wine tastings and fewer death threats.”

  He snorted. “There’s much more to it than diplomacy and guiding. We enforce the rules. When Damarians don’t appreciate those rules, they get ticked off with the shaman. We might get a few death threats from the stupid ones.”

  That made Maddie pause. She turned her head as much as she could, pressing her forehead deeper into his chest. “What does that mean for me? I’m a human. How could I possibly add any sort of help to your cause and abilities?”

  He was quiet for a long time. “It means you’re a new bridge, between magic and people—humans. And between kingdoms. I believe you’re supposed to balance out this new dynamic we have been placed in. Keep the peace when you can. Fight when you can’t.” Roan’s arm shifted, pressing her closer. “Whatever your role, Maddie, it’s important. A shaman can shape the future of a kingdom. Or break it.”

  She snorted. “No pressure.”

  He was silent again, and Maddie could almost feel the storm churning inside him. She wondered just how much Roan was holding back, if it was anger, or fear, or something else—something tangled up in all those times he’d hovered too close, or glared at anyone who dared look at her twice, or snapped at her for getting five feet ahead on their journey.

  “So, the Kingdom of Venom,” she prompted. “Is it true they drink blood and eat their young, or was that just a rumor?”

  Roan let out a sharp sound. “Where’d you hear that?”

  “I didn’t. I’m just trying to make conversation,” Maddie grinned to herself. It was a little too fun getting under his skin.

  “Every kingdom has its rotten apples, just like humans. The bad apple in KOV just happened to have a lot of power. Azure’s ambition nearly destroyed the balance between the kingdoms. And considering the mess we’ve found ourselves in, he actually might have succeeded. I don’t know if he was successful in killing Katy, using her to finish making the human women into animi.”

  “Yeah, well, thanks for the reminder.” Maddie’s mind caught again on Lola and Katy and their own predicament. The two girls whose pain she’d felt like it was her own. She closed her eyes, fighting the emotions. “We should have gone with them. You could have helped. We could have waited for this whole ‘new shaman dog show’ until after Azure was taken care of.”