Chapter 28
Rian moves like a predator—graceful, deliberate, and unmistakably Fae.
But knowing the depth of his natural skill doesn’t stop my pulse from spiking when the first trap springs.
This maze doesn’t seem designed to be conquered. It’s like it was built to test the limits of the most powerful men and women in Virendrell, to expose ones who rely too heavily on magic instead of instinct.
Arrows burst from the hedges without warning. Not a single volley, but a storm.
Dark blurs slice through the air from multiple angles, crossing paths, meant to herd him into failure.
Rian doesn’t hesitate.
He dips and twists between the arrows, his body anticipating the attack before it fully reveals itself, ducking where no opening should exist, shifting a step as metal kisses the air where his heart was a moment ago.
I grip the railing harder.
The maze answers with fire.
Flames roar to life in a wall that surges as high as Rian’s chest. Heat shimmers through the air even from this distance.
My throat tightens as Rian clears the inferno in a single, powerful leap. His boots skim the blaze so closely that sparks lick at his soles. He lands without breaking stride.
A shaky breath slips past my lips.
The ground vanishes beneath his feet next, crumbling away in a violent rush of stone and dirt.
I gasp out loud this time as Rian lunges right and then runs up the hedge wall itself.
As if the greenery were made of solid stone.
Disbelief momentarily eclipses my fear.
Rian shouldn’t be able to do that…
Not with those dark manacles locked around his wrists.
Icy spikes crash down from above without warning, ripping me away from the question forming in my mind.
A scream tears from my throat.
Rian slides, rolls, twists—always a breath ahead of the blows.
One spike grazes close enough that my vision blurs.
Don’t get hit. I lean over the railing as if I can somehow reach over and pull him out of danger. Please…don’t get hit.
Through it all, Rian doesn’t falter.
Not once.
Even stripped of his shadows, Rian reaches the end of the maze…untouched.
No blood seeps from a wound.
No skin is torn.
Hells, I don’t even think a strand of dark hair is out of place.
The spectators erupt.
Cheers thunder through the air, loud and frenzied. They celebrate the spectacle. The danger. The gamble with his life.
I barely hear them.
My world narrows to the lone figure standing at the end of the maze below.
Rian lifts his head, and his silver eyes find mine instantly.
The knot in my chest loosens.
Rian holds my stare, metallic eyes intent, as if words are pressing against his teeth and he’s forcing them back
A tickle travels up my arms, coiling in my chest to meet my power.
Warmth floods my veins, and the memory of our kiss rises unbidden, but not unwelcome.
I should look away.
Rian said the kiss was a mistake.
I should remember all the reasons I’m angry with him. The secrets. The tricks. The deceit.
But as my heartbeat begins to slow, fear for his safety diminishes, and an undeniable thought takes root in my mind.
Who cares if I’m drawn to Rian by Fae instinct?
Logic tries to tell me it’s instinct I can control—that giving in could cause a cascading effect I may regret later.
A strand of hair falls over Rian’s eye as he tilts his head.
I don’t care.
I’ve already faced the fact that I’m half Fae. At least, in part.
The truth of my heritage comes with so many implications. So many questions. And the need to find Ferria and tell her if she doesn’t already know.
But right now, with that insistent rope wrapping around my chest and urging me to race down the stairs and throw myself into Rian’s arms, I tell myself I have time.
“You care for the prince.” Helen’s cool words flow into my ear.
I jerk away from the railing, my hands falling to my sides.
Warnings bells ring in my head as I meet her hard stare.
“Of course,” I reply and swallow past the lump lodged in my throat. “We’re friends.”
The marks on my arms trill, insisting we’re more.
And maybe we could be.
Or would be.
If the next words didn’t come out of Helen’s mouth.
“I’m glad to hear it.” False sincerity drips from her voice. “Your kind has no business mingling with the Shadow Heir. To do so would be…unnatural.”
The words, meant to sting, don’t land their mark.
Fae or no, I don’t care what Helen thinks.
“He needs someone influential,” she continues. “Someone to sit on a throne at his side when the time comes.”
I only half hear the words.
Rian walks around the edge of the maze, on his way back to the viewing box. The muscles on his back bulge and depress with each step.
My fingers prick with the urge to caress his skin.
“—especially now that he’s declared his interest in Iris.”
My eyes fly to Helen’s, and the triumphant gleam that greets me makes my gut churn.
“What…” I pause, a frown pulling at my lips as her meaning clicks.
She said Rian entered the maze to compete for Iris.
I thought she meant figuratively…
“What are you talking about?” I finally ask.
A flicker of fake surprise mars her perfect face. “Oh dear. Did you not know?”
I press my lips together, aware of the web she weaves, but too invested to resist walking right into it. “Know what?”
Her neck straightens, and her hateful smile widens. “Entering the maze is a formal declaration of intent. Prince Rian has publicly announced his interest in seeking a bride in Virendrell. And there is none more eligible than my beloved daughter.”
The power within me recoils, condensing into a small, burning knot lodged behind my sternum.
That’s bullshit.
Rian is the Shadow Prince. He dragged me from Verdanthia on a mission that only the Gods know the details of. He wouldn’t be sidetracked by finding and claiming a bride in Virendrell.
Not after our kiss.
A kiss he called a mistake…
No.
Mistake or not, Rian wouldn’t do this.
But despite my confidence, my heart slams hard enough to bruise.
Rian reaches the top of the viewing box.
He takes his place among the honored guests, accepting praise with an easy smile that rings hollow even from here. It’s too smooth, too practiced, like armor he’s slipping on.
Iris glides forward.
The crowd parts for the mayor’s beautiful and composed daughter as she closes the distance between herself and the prince.
My fingers curl into fists, nails biting into skin, grounding me through pain.
Rian takes Iris’s hand.
The world narrows to that single point of contact.
He lifts her fingers and presses a slow kiss to her knuckles, his attention fixed entirely on her face, as if no one else exists.
And Iris—
Her smile blooms, bright and victorious, catching the last of the fading sunlight.
Rian laces their fingers together with a sly, sexy smile that fractures something inside me.
I try—Gods know, I try—but no amount of logic can suppress the surge of raw agony that drags me under as I watch them together.
I clamp my lips closed and call on the self-control I spent a lifetime honing, forcing it into every trembling inch of me.
I don’t know what game Rian is playing, what he’s doing with Iris, but the fact that he can do so right in front of me…after what’s happened between us… It hurts.
Too much.
And I won’t stand by and watch.
I turn my back to the prince, resolve settling in where foolish infatuation once lived.
Thank Velmira, I didn't suffer it for long.
A new path sits before me.
Or, should I say, my original path.
The marks on my arms thrash in protest, and my own magic titters with displeasure.
I ignore them both.
I will cure Darius and escape Rian’s reach before he has the chance to ensnare me in his powerful orbit again.
Fae instinct be damned.