Page 122 of Prince of Darkness and Deceit

The moment is so stark, so brutally symbolic of everything that’s changed in just a few days…

My stomach twists. Something inside me tears in two, and I don’t know if either half will survive what comes next.

24

I can’t shake the feeling that something is about to go very, very wrong. It coils in my gut, cold and cautionary.

A weight presses against my chest, not pain exactly, but something heavy and nameless, like the air just before a thunderstorm.

I reach up, fingers brushing the crown of woven blooms nestled in my hair. The petals are soft, cool, delicate…a poor match for the dread prickling along my spine.

“Stop that,” Ferria hisses, slapping my hand away, then draws me to a stop. “You’ll ruin it.”

She fusses over me, her strong fingers brisk but careful as she readjusts the celebratory headpiece, tucking a loose curl behind my ear. I let her. She needs something to do with her hands. She’s just as uneasy as I am.

Around us, the crowd flows toward the center of town for the festival. Laughter, music, and the smells of roasted meats and sweet treats float in the air. Color and life shine in every direction, smiles and excitement. All of it is lost on me.

My heart thuds a little too fast, and I fight the urge to search the crowd for a hidden monster. Not that I would know if I saw one. The natchling certainly had me fooled.

“Relax,” Ferria murmurs, eyes trailing over me from head to toe, searching for evidence of an injury that doesn’t exist. “Nothing’s going to happen today.”

“I know.” But I can’t shake this feeling gnawing at me.

She groans and grabs my hand. “What you need is a distraction.”

“What I need is time,” I mutter, so quietly she doesn’t hear me over the giggles of the young women skipping past us.

I watch them go, dresses billowing in the breeze, grinning with abandon. I was never that carefree. The life the Gods dealt me ensured that. And no matter my accomplishments, my successes, nothing changes.

My deadline to help Darius is tomorrow. The fate of Verdanthia is in my hands. Ferria knows it. And yet she insists I waste time attending a festival that shouldn’t be happening. The Elders should have canceled the event the moment Fae stepped into town.

But they don’t know about the beasts.

We pass the barracks.

“Where are the rest of the soldiers?” Ferria asks, lips turned in a frown.

I follow her gaze and take in the young men in the muddy training yard, wearing matching forest-green uniforms, their dark boots polished to a fresh shine.

A quick count has me frowning as well. “Maybe the Elders ordered extra patrols?”

I hope that’s the case. Everyone is spooked after the fire that destroyed so many homes—a fire that the Elders claim started from an overturned lantern next to a straw-filled bed. Only I, Ferria, and the Fae know the truth.

“But why?” Her frown deepens. “Do you think they know about the fire?”

“No.” My answer comes quickly.

The only reason we know the natchling used its destructive power to create the unnatural fire that would’ve burned endlessly is because of the Fae.

Jaxon shared the information with Ferria while we were sparring this morning. Well, I was sparring. Draven put me through the ringer, more motivated than usual to ensure I can protect myself. I’d almost say he cared.

But then he swiped my ankles out from underneath me, unbothered that I landed on my still-tender back, before barking at me for not paying attention.

Ferria hums, eyes assessing the soldiers.

“Are you worried?” I ask.

“I’d be a fool if I weren’t.” She shakes her head and loops her arm through mine. “But there’s nothing we can do tonight.”