Page 199 of Prince of Darkness and Deceit

Ferria sucks in a breath. “What? How?”

I can’t answer.

Gods, help me…I don’t know.

My eyes sting as I drag them to Rian. He’s already staring. His expression is unreadable, mercilessly distant.

“You will be coming with us, Elara,” he says, voice stripped of all warmth. “Until Darius is freed of the curse entirely.”

My heart thrashes like it wants out of my chest.

“This isn’t fair!” Ferria explodes. “You can’t do this.”

“I can,” Rian says flatly as shadows curl above him. “And I am. Elara comes with us until Darius is cured to fulfill our deal.”

The markings on my arms writhe, and panic skitters over my skin.

Calm down, Elara. Think!

I won’t be with the Fae forever. This is just until I can fulfill my end of the bargain.

Ferria continues arguing with the Fae. I tune them out and check on my power.

Magic coils in my chest, fatigued from its recent efforts. It doesn’t have the energy to try and remove Darius’s curse right now.

There’s no avoiding it—I will be leaving Verdanthia with the Fae. But I have one stipulation.

“Ferria comes with us,” I say, cutting off whatever speech Jaxon was in the middle of giving.

The friendlier Fae grimaces, then turns to Rian.

When Rian doesn’t speak, Jaxon sighs and rubs a hand over his head. “Unfortunately, that can’t happen.”

I frown. “Why not?”

He presses his lips together, then says, “Where we are going isn’t welcoming to outsiders. It will be hard enough to convince them to allow one strange magic wielder in their territory, let alone two.”

“That’s absurd. You’re powerful. Surely you can convince them to let both of us in.”

“We can’t risk it,” Jaxon says, not without remorse.

“Why not?”

“Because we need something from them,” Rian replies.

Shadows rise off his shoulder, coiling into a pattern over his head. They almost look like shifting vines, reminiscent of my arm’s markings.

And is that a selmary flower?

I tear my eyes away from their mesmerizing dance and glare at Rian. “You also need something from me. And I swear, I will not lift a finger to help Darius if Ferria— AH!”

Pain detonates over my forearms.

I double over, a ragged cry ripping from my throat. Blood trickles hot and wet down my arms as the markings carve deep gashes, shredding flesh like paper.

“Elara!” Ferria drops to her knees beside me, frantic. “Stop it! Stop it right now!”

I barely register her words. My vision tilts. Blood drips onto my lap, onto the cot, pooling. The world shrinks to red and pain and the shadowed markings slashing me apart.