Page 220 of Captive of Secrets and Storms

Anders leans back on his heels, avoiding my gaze.

“What was that?” I ask.

His magic felt…familiar.

A sad smile tugs at the corner of his lip. “Like calls to like.”

I don’t have time to ask what he means.

A scream pierces the air.

Our heads snap toward the sound that comes from the other side of the cliff.

The direction we were heading.

Where our boat to escape awaits.

41

Curse our luck.

One look at Anders’s grim expression confirms what I suspect: whatever is happening on the other side of the cliff, it’s nothing good.

Another shout echoes through the night. Masculine. Pained.

“Shit,” Anders mutters.

My thoughts exactly.

The marks on my arms draw tight. Light magic flows freely in my veins, ready to be of use, somehow completely healed after my burnout last night.

I tamp down on the power, willing it not to erupt in a flash of brightness that will expose us to whoever waits on the other side of the jagged cliff.

“What do we do?” I whisper.

Anders releases a near-silent sigh. “We wait.”

A third shriek punctures the night air.

I cringe. “For what?”

“Backup.”

My brows rise. “Who is⁠—”

A loud snarl cuts off my question, followed by a masculine scream that is cut off with a sickening gurgle.

A terrified voice bellows, “Shadow Fae!”

My pulse skips a beat.

And I’m already moving.

“Elara,” Anders hisses. “Wait!”

I don’t.

I can’t.