Chapter 36
The vortex of shadows freezes mid-whirl, a storm arrested in the air. The silence that follows is heavy, suffocating.
Every gaze hooks into me with varying shades of shock and disbelief, but it’s Rian’s I hold.
His stare burns hotter than flame, sharper than a blade. I can’t read his thoughts, but the terrible stillness of his power makes me think he’s listening. At least, I hope that’s what it means, and that he’s not planning a way to punish me for my claim.
“What did you say?” Rian’s voice is low, words barely above a whisper.
I hear them as clearly as if he’d spoken them right into my ear.
I don’t succumb to the panic clawing up my throat.
I inhale through my nostrils, step out of Ferria’s hold, and state with as much confidence as I can muster, “I can save Darius.”
Shadows pulse, but they don’t come from Rian.
Draven moves forward, his body rigid, his shadows snapping around him like impatient hounds vying for his attention. “How?”
I think of my encounter with the natchling. How my magic burst from me as white lightning and how the darkness within the creature recoiled from its touch. Then I think of how my power created an opening in Rian’s impenetrable shadow wall.
My entire life, I’ve viewed the magic that flickered in my veins as healing magic, but I was wrong.
It’s light magic. And I don’t know much, but I know light negates darkness.
And when I touched Darius all those days ago, and the curse eating away at him attacked me, it screamed of the darkest evil I’ve ever felt.
But I don’t say any of that.
Instead, I meet Draven’s stare. Hope flickers raw and unhidden in his eyes—a dangerous thing.
“I will tell you,” I say, voice steady despite the quake in my bones. “But first…Lev must be released.”
Rian’s shadows still clutch Lev’s throat. He claws at them, body thrashing, every movement weaker than the last.
“Done,” Draven snaps.
Rian’s eyes flare, but he doesn’t release Lev.
“You defend him,” Rian states for a second time, anger set in the line of his handsome face as his tone drips with judgment. “Even now?”
“No one should be hurt because of me.” I hold his stare, fighting off the tremors threatening to wrack my body. “Release him, and I will help Darius.”
Rian growls in disapproval.
“For Mother’s sake, Rian,” Draven roars. “Just do it!”
I flinch at the crack of his fury, my heart slamming against my ribs. Rian doesn’t move. Lev’s body jerks once, then slackens, face paling as the shadows choke the last of his strength away.
Shit.
I don’t know what else to do. I can’t force him to drop Lev.
At my side, Ferria looks between me, Lev, and Rian. Her hands open and close at her sides, as if she’s debating throwing a fire bolt to help save her childhood friend.
“Fine,” Rian finally seethes. “But I require a deal.”
I clench my teeth and bite out, “Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously,” he growls back, though the corner of his lip twitches before falling back into a hard line. “Now, say it.”
I want to take Ferria’s shoe and throw it at his face. Time is of the essence. Lev only has seconds left before the oxygen deprivation causes too much damage.
With a shaky exhale, I force the words out: “I, Elara Stonebloom, agree to cure Darius in exchange for Lev Ironheart’s release.”
I don’t know the technicalities of wording Fae deals, but I assume adding our surnames won’t hurt.
I don’t dwell on what will happen if I’m wrong and I can’t actually heal Darius. Rian released me from a deal once; surely he’d do it again…
Rian’s lips curve. “Your deal is accepted.”
Shadows whip around his torso, then fly through the air and wrap themselves around my forearms.
I suck in a breath as the dark markings embed themselves into my flesh, coiling into tight spirals before spreading out and forming a delicate floral and vine-like pattern over my skin.
I exhale and marvel at the beautiful design, once again forced to acknowledge that part of me missed the shadows presence. After days of feeling their sporadic movements, it has been jarring to lose them.
A loud thump hits the ground, followed by a hoarse wheeze and choked coughs.
Lev collapses, his cheek pressing against the ground as his back muscles seize with desperate breaths. Ferria rushes over and drops to her knees, grabbing his shoulders and rolling him onto his side.
My healer’s eyes watch him struggle to breathe. I take in how color slowly returns to his face, and I note the angry red marks marring his strong throat.
I can help him.
I can walk over to him, right now, and use my magic to heal the worst of his injuries. My magic is already gathered in my palms, ready to be of use. I can ease Lev’s discomfort with a soft touch. It would be quick.
But I don’t have my satchel with me. I can’t pretend to use whatever tonic or medicinal herb I have in excess to alleviate his symptoms.
No, if I heal Lev, he will know about my magic. And after his betrayal—after he left me in the hands of Fief—I can’t take that risk.
He didn’t strike me with his fists, but he stepped aside and let someone else do it. I don’t know what else he’s capable of. He’s not the man I thought he was.
Though as his coughing slowly subsides and his eyes lock onto me, I can’t help but once again see the boy who defended me throughout our lives.
True remorse lines every inch of his handsome face. An ache blooms in my heart as I fight the urge to go to him, to help him.
My earlier fury simmers into embers. Exhaustion tugs at my very soul. The lack of adequate rest and food is catching up with me. But I need to hold it together. I have one more thing I need to accomplish today. Then Ferria and I will figure out what the hells we’re going to do.
“E-Elara,” Lev pants out.
Bloodshot eyes trail my face as Ferria helps him sit up. He reaches out a shaky hand.
He’s nowhere close to touching me, but I take a step back regardless.
His expression falls. “Elara, please… I’m…I’m sorry.”
Tears burn the backs of my eyes.
I press the heels of my hands into my eyelids to hold them back and mutter, “I don’t care.”
I can’t afford to care.
When I lower my arms, I look at Rian. “Can you get him back to town?”
Molten silver traces my face, locking in on the lone tear that manages to escape the corner of my eye.
His features harden, and he gives a terse nod. The thick wall of darkness separating us from the rest of the field morphs into a wispy cloud of black smoke.
The marks on my arm shift ever so slightly at the pulse of magic that flows through the air. The smoke disappears, and the sight it reveals leaves me speechless.
The fighting has stopped.
No humans are left standing. Fae soldiers stand still, facing the tree line, as if waiting for another attack to cross into their territory.
I pray to Velmira that she saw fit to let many men escape into the dark forest—that the towns in this region are not completely unprotected.
I scan the blood-soaked field, my stomach churning and heart clenching at the senseless violence.
This didn’t have to happen. The Fae were going to leave. Why did Lev and the others have to provoke them?
A grunt grabs my attention.
Jaxon hauls Lev up with one arm. Ferria stands at Lev’s other side, helping to support him. But Lev doesn’t look at either of them. His attention remains on me, and the heartbreak on his face fills me with equal parts sadness and anger.
“Get him out of my sight,” Rian barks.
Jaxon gives a sharp nod. He and Ferria half drag, half carry Lev to a waiting horse.
Shadows slither up the reins, holding the creature steady while they haul him into the saddle. His body pitches to the side, limp, but fresh coils of darkness latch around his waist and legs, securing him upright like ropes made of night.
Lev’s brown eyes hold mine through it all. Even when Jaxon slaps the horse’s flank and the beast bolts toward the trees, he cranes his neck, keeping me in sight before the darkness of the forest swallows him whole.
Numbness creeps into my chest like frost. I’ll likely never see him again. And oddly enough…I’m okay with that.
A throat clears.
“Rian…” Jaxon exhales, his tone tight with nerves. “Do you think you can disband your creepy army? They’re freaking me out.”
His words draw my gaze from the silent tree line. Jaxon watches Rian with an expectant look.
Rian lifts a single hand.
I stiffen as every Fae soldier pivots as one, their faces angled toward us.
Then—snap.
With the meeting of Rian’s fingers, their bodies unravel. Smoke pours off them in thick curls. Their weapons vanish. Their armor dissolves.
A scream lodges in my throat.
Ferria gasps. “What the hells?”
Where over two dozen warriors stood moments ago, the clearing is now empty. Not a footprint mars the blood-soaked grass. Not a single dropped blade glints in the dim light.
Rian twists his wrist, palm up. The smoke surges, rushing across the clearing like a living tide. My breath snags. I brace for an attack, but the shadows flood straight into his outstretched hand. He closes his fingers. The last wisp disappears.
What. The. Hells.
The soldiers… Every silent, watchful figure who haunted my steps since the moment I entered their camp… They were shadows.
Memories slice through me. Waking to an empty camp. Wandering into Rian’s tent in confusion, searching for someone, anyone, to take me home.
I think of the soldiers’ eerie stillness. Their unnatural movements. The vacant stares.
They were never real. They were Rian’s creations. His shadows given flesh.
“What the fuck is going on?” Ferria’s voice cracks as sharp as a whip.
Anger is the shield she always uses when she’s afraid.
Me? I’m not angry…just terrified. Completely and undeniably terrified.
Because now I know that one single Fae can wield enough power to conjure an army from nothing. Rian, Jaxon, and Draven didn’t have to lift a finger to stop the humans’ attack. Rian’s power enabled him to end dozens of lives without breaking a sweat.
Tremors start in my hands, then crawl up my arms, spreading down into my legs. My knees weaken. I’m a breath away from collapsing when movement pulls my attention.
Draven.
Shadows coil over his black tunic as he strides toward me, eyes hard. I flinch, but he halts a foot away. Ferria presses to my side, clutching my hand.
Draven notices, and for the barest instant, something flickers in his gaze. Respect?
Then he says, voice deep and sharp, “If you cannot heal Darius, I will make it my personal mission to ensure that human boy suffers for it.”
Ferria’s grip tightens until my fingers ache, but I’m not affected by the threat. Fear of Rian’s power drowns out everything else.
“I understand.”
Respect glints again. He jerks his head. “Come.”
He spins on his heel, striding toward the opulent tent where rich blue fabric gleams in the newborn sunlight. The dark clouds shrouding the clearing have peeled away.
I draw a fortifying breath and follow. Ferria releases my arm but remains close.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” she whispers.
Behind us, soft fabric rustles. Rian and Jaxon are moving, too. Listening.
“Yes,” I answer, though doubt snakes through me, twisting deep.
We reach Darius’s tent. Anticipation coils in my gut, vines tightening, squeezing. The shadows etched along my arms bristle at the emotion, prickling against my skin. My magic stirs in answer, sliding beneath them like cool water, settling their agitation.
That’s…strange.
But I don’t have time to dwell on the unusual interaction.
The air inside the tent is thick with incense, and the heavy spice clings to the back of my throat. Oddly enough, the familiar aroma eases a fraction of my nerves.
Everyone follows me inside. I approach Darius.
The unconscious Fae lies where he always does, chest rising and falling with steady slowness. A faint shimmer glazes over him, like light rippling across water.
“What is that?” I ask.
Draven appears at my side in a blink. “A ward.”
He waves a hand, and the glistening surface vanishes.
At his nod, I kneel beside the cot.
“Hello again,” I murmur.
I hover my hand over his chest. He looks better. His skin is still ashen, but not corpse-gray. Rian was right—he’s better than before.
The sight stirs something inside me. Confidence. Reckless, fragile hope.
I can do this. My magic is light. Light consumes dark. I can burn the curse out of him.
“Do you need the book?” Draven asks abruptly.
My head jerks toward him. Then to Rian. His back is to us, facing the tent flap, guarding. As if sensing my stare, he looks over his shoulder, and his silver eyes pulse.
I lower my gaze back to Darius, my lips pressed in a frown.
Rian told Draven about the book. It feels like a betrayal. I can’t explain why.
But what difference does one more betrayal make?
I shake off the strange emotions, then answer, “No, I don’t.”
The surly Fae doesn’t argue. His anticipation saturates the air, pressing in on me from every direction.
I clear my throat. “Could you give me space?”
Shockingly, he obliges.
I turn to Darius, my hand still suspended above his chest. Magic pools in my palm, a living light. It spills in white threads, crawling over my skin, slithering toward him before curving back and wrapping around my wrists.
“Shit,” Jaxon mutters.
“Shut up,” Ferria snaps. “Let her focus.”
My lips twitch, but I can’t hold on to my amusement. Not when the power is restless, writhing. I coax it forward, closer to Darius. The glow flares pale, docile for now, but brimming with anticipation.
My breath hitches. A sliver of space remains between my palm and Darius’s body. My heart pounds.
Then…I close the gap.
Agony detonates.
Hellfire-black… Soul-destroying darkness.
It tears through me like lightning intent on severing my flesh, light burning so bright it devours itself.
I howl—
While the world unravels.