Page 193 of Prince of Darkness and Deceit

My eyes finally open and lock with hers. The terror in her expression bleeds into relief.

“There you are.”

Before I can respond, she drags me forward and wraps me in her arms.

I grunt from the force of her hug. “What is this?”

“Affection, you idiot.” She squeezes tighter. “You drained every ounce of magic from your veins and then decided to pass out. You scared me half to death.”

I lift my arms to return the embrace, mumbling, “I didn’t decide to pass out.”

She lets out a weak laugh that sounds more like a sob and draws back slightly.

I blink and take in her appearance. She wears a man’s tunic and trousers, her red curls piled on her head in disarray. I wonder why, when recent events slam into my mind, making my muscles tense once more.

“Darius!” I whip my head around and realize I’m in his tent, lying on the same cot the Shadow Prince once used. “Did it work? Where is he?”

“Yes, it worked.” Her eyes shine with pride and affection. “Darius is awake.”

“By the Gods.” My thoughts lag for half a second, then stillness settles over my mind.

I did it.

I actually did it.

I freed Darius from his curse. Light magic can destroy the dark.

I don’t know what this means. The Fae will want to know more about my powers—how I managed to help their otherwise helpless prince. And I’ll tell them. I’m not opposed to helping…as long as they respect my freedom.

I’m tired of letting people dictate what I can and can’t do.

“What happened after I passed out?”

The last I saw Draven, he looked ready to kill me.

“You mean after the explosion?”

I nod.

She leans back on her heels and sighs. “Well, Rian used his shadows to protect the rest of us from your burst of power. Then…Darius woke up.”

I blink. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” she confirms.

Huh… That’s…anticlimactic.

What are you complaining about, Elara? You won! Be happy about it.

Movement across the tent catches my attention.

My brows lift. “Anton?”

I didn’t even notice he was here.

“Elara.” My sister’s apprentice sets down the pen he’d been twirling, crosses the tent, and stops two feet away. “I’m glad you’re awake.”

“Me too.”