Page 230 of Captive of Secrets and Storms

Darius and Silas halt at the very edge of the dock. Anders stands farther down, closer to the bobbing boat, his gaze darting from the Shadow Fae to me. His lips press into a thin line.

Darius breaks the silence. “Release her.”

Shadows writhe around his hands, not as solid as Rian’s, but undeniably more substantial than Silas’s. They coil and pulse like living things.

My captor’s grip tightens. The darkness nestled in my chest bristles.

“Sorry, chaps,” the pirate says. “But this one comes with us.”

Darius snarls. “Over my dead⁠—”

The soft thrum of a bowstring kisses my eardrums.

An arrow bursts from the cliffs and slams into Darius’s shoulder.

“NO!” I scream.

Darius stumbles back and falls into the water.

A wall of fire erupts between me and the dock, heat roaring, blocking my vision.

“Let’s get out of here!” my captor shouts.

The blaze at my throat never wavers as I’m dragged away from the beach.

An unpaved path appears beneath my feet. My single-sandaled foot slips. My bare skin screams as it strikes the rough stone, tearing.

The male doesn’t slow.

Movement flickers at the edge of my vision.

Two more males emerge from the shadows, dressed in the same pirate garb, slender bows raised. The arrows are tipped with metal that gleams wrong in the firelight at my throat.

Astlerium.

My gut clenches.

“Is that her?” one of them asks.

His hair is tied back with a strip of cloth, tapered ears fully visible.

“It has to be.” My captor huffs, jerking my arm up when my steps falter.

My shoulder joint twinges in protest.

“Mrs. Mayor explicitly said our target was ‘the only blonde harlot in Virendrell.’”

I choke on my next breath.

Helen?

Helen is behind this?

A sick feeling unfurls in my stomach as every interaction with the mayor’s wife twists into something sharp and evil.

But why?

What did I do to her?