Page 117 of Prince of Darkness and Deceit

His eyes flash like molten silver. “What do you mean, you can’t?”

The sharpness in his tone makes me flinch.

Yeah... He’s definitely angry.

“I drained it on that…hatchling thing.” My tongue feels thick.

His face blurs at the edges. I shake my head, trying to clear it.

“Natchling,” he snaps, his frown deepening. “Did you touch it?”

Did I?

I…can’t remember.

“I don’t know.” My legs buckle completely, but I don’t hit the ground.

Rian bears all my weight, his dark magic cushioning the press of his arms against my wounds like a second skin.

His free hand skims down my arm. The markings there writhe in answer, and a faint flicker stirs in my chest.

He grunts. “Your magic is responsive,” he says. “Use it. Mend your back.”

“I can’t.” My head lolls against the solid muscle of his arm, too tired to be anything more than faintly mortified by my weakness. “Did you set the fire?”

My vision swims, my thoughts smothered in haze—that’s the only excuse I have for why I’d dare throw such a loaded accusation at a Fae. Especially when I can’t even stand, let alone defend myself.

Not that I could defend myself against Fae. But I can’t even try in this state.

“Why the fuck would you think I set that fire?”

My head tips back, dizzy, until his hand catches the back of my neck, steadying me.

His silver eyes flash as he leans closer, bright and unyielding. “Explain, Elara. Before I lose it.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to say that he already is losing it, but I bite the words back. I lick my cracked lips.

“Water couldn’t put out the fire,” I slur. “It seemed like…magic.”

He rumbles a growl, though it’s not directed at me this time. His gaze cuts back to the inferno, thoughts flickering fast behind the moon-bright silver of his eyes. When they swing back to me, their beauty knocks the air from my lungs.

“Heal yourself,” he orders.

Shadows rise behind his shoulders like furious sentries.

Exhausted, I close my eyes and murmur once again, “I can’t.”

“You can.” He dips closer, so close his breath ghosts my lips.

Heat flows into my blood. My eyes fly open.

He continues, “I know your power, Elara Stonebloom. You’re only limited by your mind. If you don’t want to bleed out on this filthy ground, you will seal those cuts. Now.”

Irritation flickers.

No, not irritation. Power.

It’s returned to me.