Page 5 of Prince of Darkness and Deceit

This won’t be too hard…as long as my magic plays nice, allowing me to mend Rolf before exhaustion renders me useless.

With a deep breath, I silently pray the Gods allow my magic to flow and that no one will notice what’s happening if it does. As much as I’m willing to risk my life to save my fellow humans, I don’t want to die today.

My hands hover over Rolf’s broken leg. Warm tingles gather in my fingertips. A soft silver glow, visible only to me, gathers around my palms.

Yes!

“Where is that little idiot?”

I jolt at the booming voice. My magic fades.

No!

I turn toward the door. A bulky man wearing a soldier’s hunter-green uniform fills the doorframe.

“There you are,” the man growls, his arms crossed over his chest. His cold, hard eyes drag over the boy with naked disapproval. “Injured after one week. Wish I could say I was surprised.”

Trained by years of healing work to seize details fast, I note his brown eyes and wavy hair—just like Rolf’s.

This has to be his father. And judging by the way Rolf trembles beneath my light touch, he’s terrified of the man.

“Don’t speak,” I murmur, softening my voice while sharpening my glare at his father.

Anyone who looks at their own wounded child like that? Utter scum.

Lev steps forward, slipping between Rolf and his father like a shield. “Brother Fief.”

The second he sees Lev, the man’s posture stiffens, and his eyes widen with something like respect.

“Brother Ironheart.” He thumps a fist against his chest. “Forgive me. I didn’t see you.”

“There’s no need.” Lev dons his charming smile, the one that helped him find his way into my bed. “But please, allow my beloved Elara to do her job. Under her skilled touch, your son will be better than new in no time.”

Beloved? I bristle at the endearment. Though I understand why he said it.

I can spot a misogynist from a mile away. If Lev hadn’t claimed me as his, the bastard would’ve turned his disrespectful ire onto me. Men like him never waste a chance to belittle a woman.

“Elara.” Fief ’s eyes slide to mine. “Pretty name.”

Lev’s smile slips. “Indeed.”

I scowl. “I cannot focus on healing with so many people in the room. Please wait outside.”

Fief’s hands curl into fists. “This is my house.”

“Of course you want to stay by your son’s side, Brother Fief.” Lev adopts a placating tone. “But there’s a reason Elara is known as the best healer in Verdanthia. Please, allow her to do her job.”

His jaw tightens. His glare slices first toward his wife, then drills into his son.

“Fine,” he barks. “But don’t treat all the wounds. A scar might remind the boy to not be so stupid next time.”

A fiery blaze surges through me. “Don’t tell me how to do my job.”

The vein in Fief’s forehead pulses. “Listen here, you little⁠—”

“Come, Brother.” Lev steps forward, his arm extended. “I’ll watch over your son while you wait outside.”

The man’s scowl deepens.