Page 179 of Prince of Darkness and Deceit

“We will.” Jaxon studies me, his gaze heavy, then sighs. “But first, let’s get Elara behind that wall.”

Ferria balks.

My shoulders sag in gratitude. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” His jaw tightens. “Rian will likely kill me for letting you walk into danger. But at least you won’t do it alone.”

Shadows pulse outward from his boots, spreading like ink across parchment, carving a path toward the writhing black barrier before rising on either side.

“Seriously?” Ferria mutters, exasperation dripping from every syllable as she eyes the shadowed tunnel.

I don’t wait. My feet carry me forward before Jaxon can change his mind. Ferria groans and follows, muttering curses under her breath.

Around us, the clash of battle crescendos. Fae soldiers cut down men with killing blows. Riderless horses whinny and race away from the violence. Arrows hiss through the air. The scent of smoke and blood churns around me, a suffocating perfume of battle.

I stumble, tripping over a steel cup half buried in the mud. My body pitches sideways, and I land outside of Jaxon’s protective shadows.

A fallen rider spots me instantly. He bellows, arm cocking back. A dagger spins through the air, glinting as it reflects the chaos, its deadly tip aimed for my heart.

Magic flares, shielding my chest. But before it can test its strength, a shadowy fist plucks the blade mid-spin and drops it harmlessly to the dirt. Another tendril coils around my arm and yanks me back into the tunnel.

“Mother, save me—stay on my path!” Jaxon snaps.

Irritation sharpens his words, but his eyes betray a flash of concern.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter.

His shadowy grip loosens. Ferria presses against my side, scanning me for injury. Then we move on.

Rian’s wall looms taller now, its jagged edges stretching skyward, thickening as if it feeds on the violence surrounding it.

We stop at its base. Jaxon places his palm against the surface only to hiss and jerk back, his skin sickly gray for the blink of an eye.

Ferria recoils. “What the hells is that?”

“Rian.” Jaxon grits his teeth. Then he shouts, “Rian! Lower the barrier!”

Silence.

The gnawing inside me claws higher, scratching at my lungs until I can barely breathe.

“Rian!” My voice cracks.

Still nothing.

Desperation, or perhaps madness, drives me forward.

“Elara!” Ferria cries. “Don’t!”

I press my palm against the shadow wall, and my back arches with agony.

Ice. Fire. Hate. Despair.

Sensations and emotions slam through me, buckling my knees. I grit my teeth, refusing to collapse.

Help me.

Warmth from my magic floods my arm, coating the innermost layer of skin covering my palm, dulling the worst of the painful sensations pulsing off Rian’s wall of shadows.