Chapter 35
Time grinds to an agonizing, slow pace.
Terror seizes every muscle in my body except my heart, which gallops as fast as the stallions racing into the clearing.
Inch by inch, Lev’s sword draws closer to Rian’s throat. An ugly, terrible sensation claws in my gut. I cannot bear the thought of the Fae being hurt. And I won’t.
Fighting against the fear locking me in place, I throw my arm out as two words flash in my mind. Protect him.
Power soars from my fingertips. Bright light zips across the distance separating me from Rian faster than I can blink, aiming for Lev’s sword arm.
But shadows get there first.
Thick, dark tendrils surround Lev’s throat, then zip down his arm and pluck the sword from his hand.
He roars in outrage.
The shadows drag Lev off his stallion, then coil into an opaque wall that snaps shut around him and Rian. My magic slams into the magical barrier and dissipates like an extinguished candle.
I stare, lips parted. Then I run.
Time lurches back into its normal, brutal pace, every heartbeat a hammer strike against my sternum.
“Elara!” Ferria’s voice rips through the chaos consuming my mind.
But I don’t stop.
I leap and stumble over overturned stones and cooking pots. This side of the clearing is empty of bodies. The fighting hasn’t drawn close to the opulent tent where the Shadow Prince rests.
Hoofbeats thunder in my ears.
My head jerks up. A Verdanthian soldier bears down on me, sword flashing atop his steed, his glare burning with the same filthy hatred as the soldier who called me a whore.
I skid to a halt and search for cover. Darius’s tent is too far. Even if it weren’t, dragging this fight to him is unthinkable.
There’s nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. Exposed in the middle of this field, I’m an easy target. At least…I used to be.
Power ignites in my palms, hot and eager, coiling like snakes ready to strike. My chin lifts as I meet the soldier’s hate-filled glare. He raises his sword, and I brace to unleash hell—
A streak of fire screams past my head.
I yelp, leaning away from the searing heat. The flames slam into the soldier, devouring him whole. His screams rip through the clearing. His horse rears onto its hind legs, head thrashing side to side, but remains miraculously unscathed by the inferno.
The soldier topples off, rolling across the ground as flames lick every inch of him. The stench of burning flesh punches the air, sickening, heavy. My stomach lurches.
“Elara!” Ferria skids to my side, panting, her grip iron on my arm. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
I can only stare at her, shock pounding in my temples. “You…you shot fire?”
Her eyes flash. “You’ve seen me do it before.”
“Not like that.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve never seen you explode like a stick of dynamite either, and yet you did.” She huffs, yanking me toward Darius’s tent. “Looks like we’ve got a lot to talk about.”
She has no idea. But it’ll have to wait.
“Stop.” I dig my heels in.
“No.” She tugs harder, stronger than me, dragging me along. “We’re sitting ducks out here and— Get down!”
She slams me to the dirt as an arrow whistles overhead.
Her weight pins me as she thrusts out a hand. Shards of fire slice across the field, embedding into an archer’s chest. He shrieks and topples from his horse.
The riders around him recoil, alarm flashing before their faces harden. They dig in their heels, spurring their mounts toward us.
“We’ve got to go!” Ferria tugs at me again.
“Lev is with Rian!” My voice cracks.
Her glare burns with frustration. “He betrayed you! Leave him!”
“No!” She doesn't understand. It’s not Lev I need to see. “I have to speak with him.”
“My, my, ladies. Don’t we like to live dangerously?”
Jaxon’s voice slips in from behind Ferria, and I’ve never been so happy to see the light-hearted Fae.
“Jaxon.” I exhale his name and throw an arm toward the writhing wall of shadows. “I have to get to Rian.”
“Do you not see the dozens of horsemen charging at us?” His tone is maddeningly casual, as if remarking on the weather.
“Yes!” Ferria yells, answering on my behalf. “So how about you do something about it!”
His lips twitch. Then he raises his hand and twirls his fingers. Shadows slither across the dirt and coil around the approaching horses’ legs, bringing them to a screeching halt.
The riders shout with frustration, then fear as the Fae foot soldiers stride their way, wearing their eerie, indifferent expressions.
I turn away from the impending bloodshed, swallowing down my sympathy for the humans and their inevitable fate, and plead with Jaxon, “Help me reach Rian. I need to see him.”
Jaxon opens his mouth but shuts it quickly when he sees my face. His forehead furrows.
I don’t even understand it myself, the gnawing, feverish pull, the desperate compulsion to see the Fae with my own eyes. To know Rian still breathes. That everything will be fine.
Ferria snarls, “You can’t seriously be entertaining this! We need to get into the tent. Now!”
“We will.” Jaxon studies me, his gaze heavy, then sighs. “But first, let’s get Elara behind that wall.”
Ferria balks.
My shoulders sag in gratitude. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” His jaw tightens. “Rian will likely kill me for letting you walk into danger. But at least you won’t do it alone.”
Shadows pulse outward from his boots, spreading like ink across parchment, carving a path toward the writhing black barrier before rising on either side.
“Seriously?” Ferria mutters, exasperation dripping from every syllable as she eyes the shadowed tunnel.
I don’t wait. My feet carry me forward before Jaxon can change his mind. Ferria groans and follows, muttering curses under her breath.
Around us, the clash of battle crescendos. Fae soldiers cut down men with killing blows. Riderless horses whinny and race away from the violence. Arrows hiss through the air. The scent of smoke and blood churns around me, a suffocating perfume of battle.
I stumble, tripping over a steel cup half buried in the mud. My body pitches sideways, and I land outside of Jaxon’s protective shadows.
A fallen rider spots me instantly. He bellows, arm cocking back. A dagger spins through the air, glinting as it reflects the chaos, its deadly tip aimed for my heart.
Magic flares, shielding my chest. But before it can test its strength, a shadowy fist plucks the blade mid-spin and drops it harmlessly to the dirt. Another tendril coils around my arm and yanks me back into the tunnel.
“Mother, save me—stay on my path!” Jaxon snaps.
Irritation sharpens his words, but his eyes betray a flash of concern.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter.
His shadowy grip loosens. Ferria presses against my side, scanning me for injury. Then we move on.
Rian’s wall looms taller now, its jagged edges stretching skyward, thickening as if it feeds on the violence surrounding it.
We stop at its base. Jaxon places his palm against the surface only to hiss and jerk back, his skin sickly gray for the blink of an eye.
Ferria recoils. “What the hells is that?”
“Rian.” Jaxon grits his teeth. Then he shouts, “Rian! Lower the barrier!”
Silence.
The gnawing inside me claws higher, scratching at my lungs until I can barely breathe.
“Rian!” My voice cracks.
Still nothing.
Desperation, or perhaps madness, drives me forward.
“Elara!” Ferria cries. “Don’t!”
I press my palm against the shadow wall, and my back arches with agony.
Ice. Fire. Hate. Despair.
Sensations and emotions slam through me, buckling my knees. I grit my teeth, refusing to collapse.
Help me.
Warmth from my magic floods my arm, coating the innermost layer of skin covering my palm, dulling the worst of the painful sensations pulsing off Rian’s wall of shadows.
Seconds drag by. I keep my hand against the wall, but the contact no longer hurts.
“Incredible,” Jaxon mutters behind me.
Ferria’s pale face hovers next to me, side-eyeing the wall with distrust and fear. “What’s the plan here, Elara?”
A wobbly smirk tugs at my lips.
I coax the white light forward. “To get inside.”
Light shines from my skin.
The moment my magic brushes the wall, it surges. White-hot power drives into the shadows. A sharp crack splits the air. A section of the wall crumbles, scattering like shattered glass.
“Mother save me,” Jaxon breathes.
“Come on!” I grab Ferria’s hand and yank her through the opening.
Shadows already lunge to stitch the gap shut. A tendril brushes my cheek, cold as death, but we make it through.
I whirl back just in time to see Jaxon dive through before the breach seals with a bone-rattling snap.
My chest heaves.
A giddy laugh bubbles up, wild and unbelieving. “I did it!”
Ferria stares, then huffs a laugh. “You’re insane.”
Maybe.
Then Lev’s voice shatters our amusement. “Go to hell, you Shadowbound bastard.”
My head snaps up, heart lurching.
Lev kneels before Rian, arms wrenched behind his back. Blood streaks down his chin from a split lip, his left eye already puffing shut. His uniform is rumpled, dust-streaked, but intact. He looks battered, not broken.
Relief teeters on the edge of my sigh, then vanishes when I notice the shadows. They coil thickly over Rian’s body, restless and alive, slipping between his legs, twining up his arms and throat. Their jerky movements scream agitation even though his face is a mask of cold indifference.
Jaxon clears his throat.
Neither Lev nor Rian looks at him. Their gazes are locked, hatred so dense it could be cut with a blade.
“You try my patience.” Rian’s voice thrums, a rich vibrato that slides through my veins.
My core clenches against my will.
Lev jerks against his bindings, shadows biting deep into his wrists.
I look at Rian and find not a single hair out of place. His breaths are even. Lev, on the other hand, gulps for air. Sweat drips down his temples.
The comparison proves, once again, how foolish this attack was. How in the Gods’ names could Lev and the others ever believe otherwise?