Page 64 of Captive of Secrets and Storms

Seconds drag on.

The sun shines down once more. Without the protection of the makeshift tent Rian constructed with his shirt, heat warms my scalp. I smooth my hair back and tie it into a ponytail, lifting the long strands off my damp neck.

The ship cuts through the water, then turns until the entire length of the vessel faces our small dinghy.

Up close, the vitriol in the men’s eyes is easier to see.

This isn’t good.

Silas waits until the air flows out of their sails before saying, “I’ll ask again, what is the meaning of your attack?”

Not a single weapon lowers.

A man with rich, mahogany hair steps forward, slipping between two archers to stand at the ship’s railing.

“You trespass these waters,” his deep voice bellows, his accent a curious blend of the Fae’s noble cadence and the common tongue spoken by my neighbors. “By the laws of Virendrell, it is within our rights to sink your vessel to the depths.”

Gods, no.

My chest tightens.

A tendril of shadow wraps around my wrist.

I jerk and look down at the gentle caress, but it dissipates the next second.

Silas doesn’t so much as flinch. “Do that, and I can assure you, it will be your last act before you meet The Mother.”

A mass of shadow rises from his shoulders, then falls behind him like a shifting cloak.

Each man aboard the ship stiffens as they realize they stand in the presence of Shadow Fae.

Little do they know, these males aren’t just any Shadow Fae. One of them is the Shadow Prince.

I glance at Rian.

Why isn’t he speaking to these men?

Is he planning on keeping his identity a secret?

Dark eyes meet mine. Rian lifts a strong brow. I turn away.

The speaker for the vessel leans forward, large fingers gripping the ship’s railing as his eyes flash. “You dare threaten us?”

“You started it.” Silas shrugs. “But rest assured, we don’t wish for violence today.”

A loaded second passes. Then⁠—

“What do you wish for?”

“Safe passage to Virendrell. We have business to conduct there.”

The man grumbles. “What business?”

“I’m afraid that is private. But I give my word, it is nothing nefarious.”

“The day I trust the word of a Shadow Fae is the day I greet The Mother,” the man spits.

“That can be arranged,” Silas returns with a smirk.