Page 211 of Captive of Secrets and Storms

“Come.” He shoulders my satchel and the leather sack then holds out a hand.

Tendrils of dark wrap around his fingers.

I step forward and place my palm in his.

He squeezes my hand once. Then we’re running down the corridor the way we came.

My skirt and hair flare out behind me. My heart is in my throat. Self-preservation screams at me that if the Shadow Prince is uneasy, I should be terrified.

Sirens continue to blare. They haven’t stopped since they started, but their volume has grown louder. Or perhaps that’s just my panic .

The third floor is empty, but when we take the stairs down to the second floor, chaos erupts.

The evening’s guests run in their finery, their painted faces twisted with fear. Shouts pierce the air as they all try to figure out where to go. What to do.

Rian leads me past them, down to the ground floor.

Here, soldiers gather. Their polished pale-gray armor reflects the strings of light hung through the open courtyard.

Shadows press against me like a second layer of skin as we weave through the armed men, sidestepping their unsheathed swords, but not before I notice the grim determination in the assembled men’s expressions.

They’re prepared to fight.

We step through the palace’s main entrance, squeezing through the small opening between the wall and the line of soldiers guarding the palace.

The fact that they don’t balk tells me that Rian’s shadows conceal us.

I wait until we are several strides from the entrance, heading toward an unknown destination to our left, to finally ask, “Why aren’t the Sea Fae happy that you’re here?”

A horse turns the corner ahead.

Rian pulls up short. In a blur, he grabs me and spins until my back is against the palace’s white stone.

My face burrows into Rian’s chest as the horse races by, he and his rider unaware of our presence.

With the path clear, Rian takes my hand once more and resumes leading me to Gods know where.

“Rian?” I press.

A shadow rolls down his back, in sync with his heavy sigh. “The Sea Fae despise Virendrellians. They see them as cowards.”

“So, what?” I frown. “Sea Fae don’t want you to talk to them?

We turn at the edge of the palace. Ahead, a single-story building sits, attached to the larger structure by an open walkway. There are no lights. No sign that anyone is inside.

“I need the Sea Fae as an ally,” he reveals, tugging me toward that lone building.

“You mean Marek needs them as an ally.”

“No, Elara.” Dark eyes peer over his shoulder, ensnaring mine with an intensity that makes the hair on my arms stand on end. “Me. I need the Sea Fae. We were on our way to confirm a tentative alliance when the Pelagor attacked. But if they find me here, I can kiss that alliance goodbye.”

My head spins.

He needs the alliance?

What for?

I know very little about Fae politics.