Page 77 of Blade of the Nightking

A bead of blood slid down his neck.

“Surprised, Flamelord?” she called over her shoulder, her voice stripped of its former meekness—now low and smooth, edged with something feline. “Turns out I was the luckiest little girl alive, when my parents shielded me from your uncle’s flame. Though there was precious little left of them to bury when he was done with them.”

She pressed the blade closer, guiding Hamish back until his spine hit the wall. “Sit.” He glared at her—but slid down anyway. She smiled, her teeth flashing dangerously. “Good boy.”

“Aedric—” I started, but he’d already turned on Levinica, fury blazing through him. He inhaled—and when he exhaled, the hearth exploded.

Flames surged outward, heat roaring through the room, licking across the floor⁠—

—and vanished.

Snuffed out in an instant.

The bond yanked hard.

In the dim wash of moonlight, Levinica rose to her feet, a distant, expectant smile on her face as she looked once more to the terrace.

Veylan crossed his arms. “How strange, Flamelord,” he said smugly. “You understand how Levinica’s visions work—how they sharpen when she touches the one they concern. And yet, in your haste to free your mate, it never occurred to you to ask me who she’d touched to see this one.”

His eyes glittered.

“The moment the Veil fell… she opened the gates of the Dusklands to welcome him home.”

The curtains snapped in a rush of wind. And stepping through them from the blackness beyond, came the nightmare made flesh.

Beautiful. Terrible. Cold.

The Dark Prince himself.

CHAPTER 16

His presence swallowed the room like a gathering storm. Power rolled off him, vast and dangerous, pressing against the air like a thundercloud.

He stepped just inside the door, and without so much as a gesture, it slammed shut behind him, cutting off the wind. He didn’t move after that, only stood there—face lost to shadow, hands in his pockets—watching.

“You’re looking good, Rìan,” Aedric barked a laugh, though it sounded forced to me. Fear clawed its way up my throat. “How was your little holiday in the Veil? Restful, I hope?”

Rìan said nothing. But his eyes began to glow in the darkness, silver bleeding through, brightening by the second.

I couldn’t breathe. The bond wrenched tight, pulling hard enough to make me lurch forward. I fought it, tried to tug back, but it held fast.

“Do you know how impressed we all are that you managed to escape?” Aedric went on. “Who knew you could worm your way into minds even stuck between worlds? Truly admirable. You should be prou⁠—”

He never finished.

Rìan’s eyes blazed and Aedric’s body seized mid-word, his breath tearing from him in a scream. I cried out, straining against Veylan’s shadows as Aedric convulsed helplessly.

As quickly as it started, it stopped.

Aedric sagged, gasping, thin streams of blood slipping from his ears, tracing down his neck. With a shudder, he dragged his head back up and glared at Rìan, his face drawn tight with a hatred so savage it made him look animal.

Those silver eyes burned now, bright as stars, cutting through the dim. Inhuman. Ancient. A god of death.

“Where is Dannis?” His voice was smooth, controlled—velvet wrapped around a blade.

Aedric spat at his feet and laughed, the sound rough from screaming.

Rìan’s gaze moved calmly down to the glistening spit, then back up again. “Shall I break the Eidra’s mind slowly,” he said softly, “and let you watch?”