Page 222 of Blade of the Nightking

Elyndra's expression crumpled. Calantha merely shoved her aside.

Elyndra stumbled backward into the wall. The trailing folds of her silk robes ignited instantly, but she didn't seem to notice. Tears spilled down her filthy cheeks as she stared at the carnage around her, at the bodies littering the floor, at the people still screaming amidst the flames.

Calantha, meanwhile, lifted her gaze and it landed on Rìan.

The effect was immediate. A smile spread slowly across her face like an oilslick, transforming her expression into something openly predatory as vicious triumph settled into her remaining eye.

When she saw me beside him, her smile vanished.

I watched her gaze move between us, taking in every detail—his arm around my waist, mine slung around his neck—and saw the exact moment understanding snapped into place.

Her expression contorted with incandescent fury.

The next moment seemed to happen in slow motion. Rìan moved from beneath the cloak, shielding me with his body as Calantha's fingers rose toward the circlet concealing her eye. Her fingertips brushed the dark glass at the exact moment Elyndra lifted her gaze and locked eyes with him.

For one suspended heartbeat there was only the two of them, separated by little more than a few yards and yet divided by centuries of betrayal, longing, and regret.

The look that crossed Elyndra's face was devastating.

There were apologies in it. So many apologies.

Apologies for lowering her wards. For sending word to Flame. For believing she could somehow control the consequences of what she'd set into motion.

But beneath them all lingered something older, infinitely more painful—the wreckage of a love that had once run deep enough to destroy them both.

Tearing away from the wall, Elyndra hurled herself forward, flames trailing from her burning robes as she thrust both arms outward. Power erupted from her, so immense that the air itself seemed to buckle beneath it, reality groaning in protest as something vast and ancient seized hold of the world.

The fire froze.

Flames stilled where they climbed the walls. Embers hung suspended in the air. Smoke ceased its restless billowing. A falling beam hung halfway through its collapse, while patrons in the midst of running, screaming, weeping, and dying became statues caught between one heartbeat and the next.

She screamed, the sound raw with rage and pain as the flames consuming her robes remained trapped against her skin. Her entire body trembled beneath the strain as her flesh burned, but still she held the spell. Held the fire. Held the falling beams. Held an entire world motionless through sheer force of will as she stared across the devastation at the male she'd betrayed.

The male she’d loved.

Go. The command needed no words.

We didn't waste the moment. The cloak fell to the ground in a heap as we leaped down the remaining stairs hand in hand. My gaze darted toward the archway leading into the right-hand corridor, and Rìan changed course without hesitation, dragging me with him. Flames wreathed the entrance, yet we passed through unharmed, slipping between tongues of fire suspended in time.

The corridor stretched on before us. We pressed on, every instinct in me screaming that we were too slow, that at any moment the magic would shatter and the inferno around us would roar back to life.

And worse—Calantha would reach us.

Every passing second was paid for with Elyndra's own suffering.

We skidded to a stop before the door and I dove instantly for the magic inside me, panic clawing at my throat. What if it didn't answer? What if it abandoned me now, when failure meant death?

The thought had barely formed before the door exploded inward beneath the force of Rìan's boot.

Elyndra had already lifted the wards.

We rushed inside, the air mercifully cooler and untouched by the fire ravaging the rest of the brothel. And there, waiting for us, stood the mirror.

The surface shivered as we approached, revealing the room on the other side. An open doorway to salvation.

Rìan never broke stride. He planted a hand firmly between my shoulder blades and propelled me forward, leaving me no chance to hesitate as I stumbled into the mirror's shifting surface.

Instead of striking solid glass, I passed through something impossibly fluid. Cool liquid light washed over me, and for one disorienting instant there was nothing but swirling color.