Page 149 of The Edge of Darkness

She circled Ramil’s chair like a predator. A cat playing with its next meal. When his face began to turn blue, she stilled her fingers, and the air returned to his lungs. His head hung low, but he lifted it long enough to look up at her as she passed in front of him.

“What are you?” he rasped between heaving breaths.

The witch dragged a fingertip over his shoulders as she moved behind him, the fabric melting as the flame she’d summoned—Maeson’s flame—burned the fibers away and bubbled his skin underneath. He cried out in pain and bucked against the restraints she still held him with.

I watched with intrigue, and across from me, so did Roirdan.

I should have just let her do all the torturing, I said into my commander’s head.

Fuck yeah you should have, he replied, staring at the witch like she was the object of all his desires.

Her voice was lethally calm, dangerously deadly as she completed her final circle and stopped in front of Ramil, leaning in until she was inches from his face. “Speak without being spoken to again, and I will reach my fingers down your throat and play fiddle with your vocal chords until you learn your lesson.” Her facial markings flared blue, punctuating her threat.

Ramil, the stubborn bastard, had the nerve to grin. Nivelle cocked her head to the side, her eyes roaming over him like she was deciding which parts she’d peel away first.

“Velle . . .” Silas said from the stairs above.

The witch lingered a moment longer, letting out a low, breathy laugh as she straightened and stepped away.

The audience—realizing that Nivelle was something other than fae—watched in astonishment. Those nearest to her shuffled backward.

To my surprise, Killian’s voice rang through the chamber. “You’re keeping witches as company now too, are you, Niall?”

“It turns out they prefer the company of a court that doesn’t slaughter them in cold blood,” I replied, turning to look at him.

Killian sneered but kept his eyes on Nivelle. “Sometimes sacrifices are necessary.”

Nivelle let out a growl, turning her death glare on him.

“I’m quite curious as to how you ended up in this realm with them, witch. Tell me, was it desperation? Too many long years alone on⁠—”

A rope of lightning whipped from Nivelle’s fingertips with such breakneck speed that no one saw it coming until it had lashed a red welt across Killian’s porcelain cheek.

Killian twisted with the impact, his hand immediately pressing against the wound. “You bitch!” he barked. When he turned back and raised his head, Silas was there to greet him. The Dionach’s fist landed a sharp blow to Killian’s nose, knocking him backward, into several other fae.

I slid my hands into my pockets. “I’m afraid you’re outnumbered here, Killian.”

The male loved to sling insults—he couldn’t help himself. Always loosening his tongue to the point that it was either exhausting, annoying, or detrimental to his own agenda.

He regained his composure, wiping at the blood that trickled from his nose. “Let’s not forget,” he said through gritted teeth, “that Auren crossed The Veil into my territory. She was reprimanded by my court, and held under my command until the mishap could be investigated. Which means that by removing her from my court without consent, you knowingly interfered with⁠—”

“Spare me your arguments, Killian, you have none. And any that you try to make are completely useless. Not once did you check on Auren yourself. Not once did you see to it that she had proper food throughout the day. You sent your cousin to keep a close eye on her while you slipped off to revel in whatever it is you enjoy doing. Your blatant neglect and carelessness were more than enough reason for me to take matters into my own hands and ensure that Auren was taken care of before you could further mishandle the situation.”

Killian’s voice rose exponentially. “She was my prison⁠—”

A pulse of my power rippled in his direction before he could finish his last word. “She was never that. And she never will be. She’s mine now, in blood and bond, so you’d better be prepared to wage a war if you think you’re going to challenge that.”

Killian bristled. “War?” His eyes slid to Ramil, then back to me.

Ramil gathered his voice. “If that is what you want, it can be arranged.”

Nivelle started toward him, and as badly as I wanted to see her pluck at Ramil’s vocal chords as promised, I lifted my hand to stop her. She halted mid-step, jaw grinding in irritation, but she obeyed.

I laughed, deeply, and without any trace of humor as I slowly turned to face Ramil. “Will you call upon the fallen one, as you did his creatures back in those catacombs?”

His brows twitched inward ever so slightly, the only sign of his concern.

“You didn’t think we would put two and two together, did you? Come now, Ramil, it’s rather obvious what you’re playing at. You even made me an offer during my delightful stay in your court. Don’t you remember? You expected me to yield my mate, my territory, and my power, to you, in exchange for favor with your fallen god.”