Page 189 of Prince of Darkness and Deceit

It tears through me like lightning intent on severing my flesh, light burning so bright it devours itself.

I howl⁠—

While the world unravels.

37

The curse is nasty. Cold yet fiery. Fierce yet sly.

The darkness that ravages the Shadow Prince’s mind and body rises like a tsunami to greet me, eager to destroy my power like it tried to do the first time I touched Darius.

But this time, I’m ready.

At the curse’s first brush against my power, my magic flares like an exploding star, but the pain comes with purpose, not chaos. I push the magic forward. The oily dark screeches, a soundless vibration that rattles my bones, but it doesn’t falter.

The curse burrows deeper into Darius’s flesh. His veins. His organs.

I chase it with my light, slicing through tendrils wherever they dare touch. For every strand I sever, two more slither free, clawing into another corner of Darius’s being. It clings to him with the desperation of something that cannot exist without its host.

The world beyond us falls away. My body. My surroundings. All gone.

There is only this battlefield. This endless clash of light and dark inside Darius.

The curse tries to shove me out. My instincts scream to obey, to recoil and preserve myself, but I hold fast. I can’t let go.

I made a deal. I will free Darius from this curse. Not just for him, but for me. To prove I can. To prove that I am strong. That my power is a gift and not something to be ashamed of. It saved me. It’s saved others. And I am determined to wield it to make the world a better place, no matter what anyone thinks.

I grit my teeth and send another burst of light flooding through my palm. Heat sears my skin. My magic scorches every thread of black it touches, and the curse shrieks.

Burst after burst, I continue my assault. With every effort, I make progress, only for the curse to rise back the moment there’s a pause in my power.

Frustration builds, suffocating as smoke. But I breathe through it, refusing to give up.

I’m missing something. Gods, help me…what am I missing?

An idea takes root, then blooms all at once.

I inhale sharply.

That’s it!

I detach a beam of light from the attack and direct it to scan Darius’s body, ignoring the sticky, thick tendrils reattaching throughout his muscles and organs as I search for the origin of the curse in the Fae’s body.

It doesn’t take long.

A solid knot of black, wound tight as a fist, coils in his chest, too close to his heart.

I whisper a plea to Olyra that what I’m about to do is not a mistake. Then I send everything I have into that single point.

The curse hisses, furious. The sound lashes across my ears, sharp enough to make me wince. Sweat pours down my temples. My pulse thunders. My arms quake as I shove more and more of myself into Darius.

Warmth flows down my spine, my arms, into my palms, spilling into his body. But the mass doesn’t budge. It writhes, wails, roars—like a beast with its claws buried in his soul.

My magic stumbles. Flickers.

No!

My power rebounds, but it’s weaker. Fading. Of course it is. I nearly drained myself when I fought the natchling, and this…this is ten times worse.