Page 161 of Captive of Secrets and Storms

Good.

I don’t know for certain whether the marks are linked to Rian, whether he can feel the anger burning through me, but I hope he does.

I hope it presses against him like a blade at his throat.

I hope he feels how deeply I regret ever doubting my initial thoughts about the Shadow Prince.

Rian is not my friend. Not even my ally.

He is an enemy who is using me while he carries out his own plans.

Now I need to free myself from him for good.

And I need Darius to do it.

I stalk down the palace corridor, ignoring the wary glances and hushed whispers that trail in my wake. Servants flatten themselves against the walls as I pass.

Heat seeps into my palms, light magic stirring, eager to be used. With every step closer to Darius’s room, the pressure inside me builds.

At this hour, I can’t think of anywhere else he’d be. But if he’s not here, I won’t stop searching. I will scour every corridor, every common room, until dawn if I must.

The carpet muffles my footsteps as I tread down the third floor. The bottom of my gown flows around my legs as I stop at the door across from mine.

No sound comes from within.

Jaw clenched, I knock once then push the door open.

Yes!

Darius lies sprawled across his bed, shirtless, tossing a stone into the air.

“Back so soon?” He catches the stone and throws it again, not bothering to look at the door. “Don’t tell me you’re tired of schmoozing with the mayor’s lovely daughter?”

I grind my teeth together and ignore the pang that strikes my chest. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“Mother!” Darius yelps, bolting upright.

The stone drops and clips the top of his head.

He winces, rubbing the spot. “Elara? What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you.” I close the door and lean against the solid wood, arms crossed, blocking his escape.

His gaze flits over me, then down at himself. He jerks, grabs a black tunic, and yanks it over his head.

The corner of my lip twitches. “Since when are you modest?”

His cheeks color, and he mutters, “Since I like my head attached to my neck.”

I frown.

“Why are you avoiding me?” I ask again.

He slides off the bed and straightens to his full height. “What makes you think I’m avoiding you?”

“Instinct.” I steel my nerves. “Is this about the other night? Because I was drunk, and I’m sorry that I⁠—”

“Mother, no!” Now even the pointed tips of his ears are red. “That’s not it at all.”