Page 67 of Fallacies

“SILENCE!” Ceres bellows again.

Nobody speaks. Nobody moves. Not when it’s so obvious what would happen if we did.

Ceres begins to laugh, and the sound skitters down my bones, an uneasiness settling in its wake. When she speaks, the deep tenor of her voice is…unfamiliar. Almost masculine.

Like it doesn’t belong to her.

“Bring me,” her face curls into a snarl, her features shifting, “the child.”

Firelight flashes across Ceres’s ashen skin, the color paling further as she shifts, red hair shriveling into inky black tendrils. I blink repeatedly, hoping that it’s the flicker of the flames playing tricks on my eyes.

It isn’t.

Ceres’s cheeks hollow, facial features morphing until she’s not Ceres at all. Until she’s someone entirely different.

A man stands in her place, clad in pitch-black robes, tall enough that his entire upper half can be seen over the wall of flames.

Ceres had been playing with shadows, but this man is made of them. They slither across his pale skin like snakes, the same magic that’s wrapped around Kimber’s throat, holding her hostage in the air.

The man’s colorless lips pull back in a deadly smile, thrilled that he’s rendered us all speechless. “I know you’re here,” he taunts, viciously scanning the crowd. His gold eyes flash across the treeline, and I hold my breath. “Come on out. Let me see you.”

More of that sheen saturates the earth beneath Kimber. Selene’s going to catch her. I know it. She won’t let a damn thing happen to her. Neither will Gemma, and neither will I.

Still, I shift to get closer, plotting a path to get to her—just in case. Dangling above us, Kimber manages to suck in a breath through her restraint. All she can manage is a pained whimper, and at the frail sound, Pax jolts forward, sheer determination in his stare. As if he might just climb the nearest tree to get to her. Anything to get to her.

“PUT HER DOWN!” he roars, abandoning his hold on the fire.

Shadows lash out around the Rogue, and I bite my tongue to keep from crying out when that dark power strikes Pax straight in the chest.

The hit sends him flying across the Yard.

Nix shouts, his hold on the fire faltering, but Easton rushes in to maintain Pax’s side, and together they reignite the flames, strengthening the line.

Callan is at Pax’s side instantly, sinking to the ground beside him, and when Pax’s arm comes up to push Callan back, I almost drown in relief.

He’s on his feet in an instant, limping back towards the fire, still just as determined as he was before. But he’s angrier now. More furious than I ever thought someone as gentle as him was capable of.

“The next hit will be fatal, dirty-blood,” the Rogue purrs, his other hand still pinned tight to his back. “Or perhaps…” he turns, searching the pale faces staring back at him, “...you enjoy death as I do.” A pause. “And in that case…”

Kimber screams when her restraint gives way, the sound shaking birds from nearby trees.

I dart forward as she plummets to the ground, making eye contact with a wide-eyed Gemma and a determined Selene.

Kimber is one tragic second from colliding with the earth when shadows wrap around her torso, yanking her back into the air.

Selene slams her fists in the dirt, and Gemma looks worriedly to the sky—to where Kimber is dangling again. At least now, with the shadows around her waist, she can breathe.

The Rogue holds Kimber hostage as if it is thoughtless to do so, as easy as breathing. He pays no mind to the ring of fire circling him or the four Ajax closing in. He doesn’t view them as a threat. He doesn’t view any of us as a threat.

It leaves me no other choice.

Fear trickles in, but I don’t give it any space. I fill every crevice with raw power, enough that I have to choke some of it back down. Enough that my medallion thrums against my skin, spiderwebs of Sol and Rogue magic webbing through my veins.

I become one with the shadows around me, clinging to the line of thick trees as I carefully edge closer. I manage to get a clear line of vision through the branches, and when the cloaked male turns, I’m at the perfect angle to see what’s behind his⁠—

Fuck. Holy fuck.

The blue is unmistakable—even in the dim light.