The shadows surged forward like a living storm. But this time, they didn’t reach for the king.
They wrapped themselves around the prisoner, shielding him in a cocoon of dark armour, and yanked him back just as the blade came down. The sword missed by a breath, crashing into the marble with a vicious clang that echoed through the hall.
Before the guard could recover, the shadows retaliated. They lashed out with brutal speed, ripping him from the ground and slamming him against the wall with bone-crunching force. He crumpled to the floor, unconscious or worse.
Elira stood frozen, her breath sharp in her chest, the room still ringing with the impact.
Gasps echoed through the hall.
Even Ashton’s expression faltered—just for a moment.
The prisoner crumpled to the floor, untouched. Shaking. Breathing.
Elira stood in the centre of it all, the magic crackling around her like a storm about to break, her eyes wild with defiance.
And that’s when Ashton smiled again.
Not amused this time.Interested.
He descended the stairs slowly, hand outstretched, studying her like a rare beast.
“You’re going to beso much funto break.”
Vasquez stepped forward, his eye gleaming—glazed not with awe, but something far darker. Hunger. “She is remarkable, sire,” he murmured, almost reverent. “Imagine what we coulddowith this.”
Ashton didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he tilted his head, watching Elira like a collector eyeing a priceless artifact. Then, without even glancing at the rest of us, he turned fully toward Vasquez, as though we were merely furniture cluttering his hall.
Around us, courtiers whispered like a rising wind. Words ofshadowmancerandthe old bloodrippled through the gilded silence. Two sentinels went to the aid of the fallen guard, bloodnow pouring from a wound on his head, while another dragged the prisoner away.
Some people stared with open fear. Others, with barely concealed fascination. A few licked their lips like jackals circling fresh prey.
What a weapon.
I saw it in their eyes. None of them saw a girl—only a tool.
Elira took a step back, shoulders tensing, chin lifting in that defiant way of hers. But her wide, darting eyes betrayed her. She hadn’t expected the audience. Hadn’t expected to be paraded like this.
Like a prize beast brought to heel.
She turned slightly, instinctively scanning for escape, like a cornered animal sensing the tightening of the snare.
“She’s overwhelmed,” Phoenix said quietly behind me.
“She’sscared,” Leo corrected under his breath, with a flicker of pride. “And she should be.”
Ashton slowly descended the last step from his dais, his boots echoing on the marble. The crowd hushed as he approached Elira again, circling her like a hawk might circle something small and fragile.
“You’ll learn to love this court, little shadow,” he said with mock sweetness. “They’re loyal. They adore entertainment. And they know the value of power when they see it.”
Elira met his eyes with barely leashed fury.
“I’m not your pet,” she hissed.
He smiled. “Not yet.”
Vasquez took another step forward, the torchlight catching the silver threads in his robes, making him seem almost regal—if not for the leech-like gleam in his eyes.
“Your Majesty,” he said smoothly, bowing with exaggerated grace, “with your permission, I’d like to begin her proper orientation within my barracks. The girl’s magic is volatile… unshaped. She needs guidance. A firm hand.”
