Page 165 of Prince of Darkness and Deceit

“Breaking you out.”

He lifts a hand. Shadows curl from his fingertips and snake into the lock. A sharp sizzle then a puff of smoke float into the air. The door swings open. My gut twists.

He’s a Shadow Fae.

“What the hell is this, Anton?” My pulse hammers against my skull. “You’re one of them?”

His mouth presses into a hard line. His hand falls to his side. “I am.”

“Gods, save me.” My thoughts spiral, clawing for reason.

Anton—Kinless Anton. He arrived in Verdanthia when he was just a child. He’s been alone for years.

Why has he been alone?

“I’m sorry, Elara,” he says quietly.

“There’s no need to apologize, my boy,” Juniper interrupts, her voice maddeningly calm. “You did what you had to do.”

I jerk back, gaping at my adoptive mother. “You knew?”

She only shrugs. “I suspected.”

What?

“Where’s Ferria?” I ask.

Juniper said she was with Anton. Clearly that’s not the case.

“She’s fine,” Anton says. “Trust me.”

I scoff. Not likely.

“There will be time for this later,” Silas cuts in, flapping a hand through the dust cloud at his face. “Get these manacles off us, Anton.”

Anton dips his head, then turns to me, kneeling at my feet.

I flinch.

Pain flickers across his kind features, raw and unguarded, and for one terrible moment, I regret my reaction.

“I would never hurt you, Elara.”

I swallow the hard lump in my throat. “I believe you…”

But you still lied.

I bite my tongue and drop my gaze to the cruel metal clasps shackling my ankles. Anton extends a hand, and shadows bleed from his fingertips, flowing into the lock. I gasp despite myself.

Only this time, there’s no pop. No fizzle.

Seconds drag like hours.

“What’s wrong?” Silas demands.

A furrow etches deep across Anton’s brow. “I…I don’t know. The metal… It’s⁠—”

His words cut off on a sharp inhale.