Page 180 of Prince of Darkness and Deceit

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?

“I’ll only ask one more time. And then I will dispose of you and find another soul to tell me what I want to know.” Rian steps forward. Shadows drag after him like smoke. “Where did you forge your weapons?”

“Why does it matter?” Lev’s voice burns with fury, though defeat weighs every word. “They made no difference.”

A pang hits my chest. Almost sympathy. Almost.

Rian’s tone sharpens. “Because when someone comes for my men, I make it a point to know everything. And trust me, Lev Ironheart, I will learn everything. One way or another, I will discover who supplied you, and they will be dealt with. The only question is: how many fingers will you have left to stroke yourself when I’m done?”