Page 220 of Blade of the Nightking

The thought turned my stomach.

Thank the gods he’d stopped me.

His eyes were closed, though a faint furrow still lingered between his brows. The sight of him lying there drew a greedy tendril of my magic forward. Before it could do anything foolish, I seized hold of it and swept a hand through the air. The mirrored glass overhead darkened and our reflections disappeared.

Only then did I allow myself to relax.

Praying Aedric could forgive the monster inside me, I finally surrendered to sleep.

CHAPTER 46

The cries tugged at the edges of my consciousness.

My eyes felt impossibly heavy as they cracked open, the room around me little more than a blur of indistinct shapes. Somewhere beyond the door, voices rose and fell.

Gods above. How was that still going on? The Fae in Illyra were utterly depraved.

The thought drifted lazily through my mind before slipping away again as my eyes fluttered shut.

A familiar scent washed over me.

Smoke. Aedric's scent. For one blissfully drowsy moment, I nearly smiled as I nuzzled deeper into the blankets.

My eyes snapped open.

Smoke.

A scream ripped through the building, the sound slicing through the last remnants of sleep as I shot upright in bed. Not screams of pleasure. Screams of terror and pain.

My pulse began to hammer as my gaze dropped to the crack beneath the door, where bright orange light flickered across the floorboards, shifting in a way that had nothing to do with dawn or fae lights. A thick veil of smoke gathered against the ceiling.

Fire.

I threw back the blankets and stumbled from the bed, dropping immediately beside Rìan.

"Rìan!"

I seized his shoulder and shook him harder.

"Rìan—!"

I cried out as my head snapped backward, fingers yanking painfully at my hair. The point of an iron dagger hovered against the hollow of my throat, close enough that I could feel its heat against my skin.

His eyes were distant and dangerous, caught somewhere between sleep and violence. He blinked, recognition returning to his face. "Eidra⁠—?"

Another scream tore through the building. In an instant, he took in the smoke gathering beneath the ceiling, the thunder of pounding feet, the splintering crash of collapsing wood. Beneath it all rose an unmistakable, hungry roar.

He surged to his feet and crossed the room at once, reaching the window while I scrambled to shove my feet into my soggy boots.

I hurried to Rìan's side. He held the curtain aside, peering into the street below where soldiers filled the roadway in orderly ranks, most standing motionless with weapons drawn while the entire front line held one arm extended toward the brothel. Fire poured continuously from their outstretched palms, great streams of magic slamming mercilessly into the building, feeding the inferno already consuming it.

The glow of the flames illuminated the soldiers' faces, revealing the raised bumps patterned across their cheeks, temples, and foreheads.

Dheren soldiers.

A keening wail rose above the screams and the roar of the fire, drawing my attention to a flash of blue forcing its way through the ranks of soldiers.

Lady Elyndra.