Page 76 of Captive of Secrets and Storms

“We are at a disadvantage, then,” Rian says in a cool tone. “As we do not know your name.”

“Augustus.” The man tips his head.

A shorter strand of brown hair slips over his shoulder before he straightens.

Silas clears his throat. “Mayor Augustus?”

“Yes.” He slides a palm over the woman’s hand resting on his arm. “And this is my wife, Helen.”

The mayor pauses.

When the Fae don’t respond, he purses his lips and lifts his chin. “Perhaps we should move this conversation indoors?”

“Yes,” Rian clips. “Perhaps.”

Augustus holds the prince’s stare for several seconds before offering a bland smile.

“Come, dear.” He pats his wife’s hand.

The pair turns and climbs back up the stairs.

“Oh, and Prince Zylen?” Augustus calls over his shoulder. “Do release my guards.”

A gust of shadow disrupts the hair hanging down my back.

Rian coos, “Of course.”

Dark bindings fall to the ground like uncoiled rope. The armored men stagger to their feet, coughing, sputtering, and glaring at Rian with unveiled hatred that’s tinged with blatant fear.

The Fae pay them no mind. Except Draven, who sends out tendrils of shadow from his open palm. I don’t have to look to know they’re slithering into the guards’ ears, altering their memories.

What will the mayor think about that?

Rian’s shadowed cloak billows behind him when he steps forward. He ascends the stairs with a stiff back, his head held high, exuding confidence and power.

And undeniable danger.

“Elara?” Darius holds out a hand.

I take it without a word, unashamed of my desire to stay close to the males who have a vested interest in my survival. Silas and Draven are already striding after Rian. We move to catch up.

Halfway up the gleaming stone steps, Darius mutters, “You’re bleeding.”

I lift my fingers to my throat. They come away red.

I bite my lip. “My magic is weak right now. I told you.”

My healing power is barely even a flicker of warmth in my chest, and its absence gnaws at me.

Darius’s nostrils flare. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” The Pelagor is responsible for my most recent diminished abilities.

He scans our surroundings, lips pinched. “This place is strange.”

“How so?”

“Everything is so…clean.”