Page 32 of Prince of Darkness and Deceit

“Go home, Elara.” He takes a step back, his spine straight as he looks down his sharp nose at me. “Rest. You’re going to need it.”

The tent flap whips open, and Jaxon steps into view.

The slightly less menacing Fae’s gaze flits between me and his tanned friend before he says, “Let’s go, little healer. Before your lover does something foolish.”

My brows knit together. “What?”

“Come.” He motions me forward with his hand. “See for yourself.”

I pause before stepping forward, sparing one last look at the Fae hovering protectively over his ailing friend.

“Ten days, Elara,” he murmurs without looking up. “That’s how long you have to slow his decay…or Verdanthia will rot with him.”

7

Shadows curl around my wrists like shackles, yanking me back before I can form a response. The fabric of the tent flutters as I’m pulled through the opening, and the dim interior vanishes behind me.

The Fae camp is deathly silent.

Dozens of unblinking eyes track my retreat. The Fae soldiers don’t move. They don’t speak. They just watch, assessing if I’m prey or off limits. The intensity of their stares strains my already frayed nerves.

I stumble over a jagged stone embedded in the path. My arms pinwheel. Jaxon reaches for me, but the shadows twisting around my arm react first, keeping me upright with unnatural strength. The magical tug jerks me sideways, and I trip again.

Jaxon spares me a brief glance before leading me to the gnarled bush we walked through to enter the clearing.

My heart jumps into my throat, but I stifle my protest. There’s only one way to get back to town, and it’s through the daunting forest that haunts my every childhood nightmare. But I have a Fae at my side. I should be fine.

No. I will be fine.

I step through the bush with my head held high, shoving aside the horrific vision of a klarv creeping along the forest floor to swallow me whole, not even leaving a finger bone behind for anyone to find.

A cloud slips over the moon, cloaking the woods in near-total darkness. A branch scratches my cheek.

“Ow!” I clutch my face.

The cut isn’t deep, but it stings—a warning bite from the forest itself.

The shadows on my arms tighten and guide me to the left, then yank me down so I hunch over, seemingly guiding me through the dark woods. Goose bumps rise across my skin. The sensation feels wrong. It’s not comforting or protective. It feels like…possession.

I lift my right arm and feel, more than see, the darkness curling tightly around my wrist.

“What are these?” I ask, voice trembling.

“Shadows,” Jaxon replies without looking my way.

I bite back a snarky reply. “Yes, I know they’re shadows, but how are they guiding me? Are they...yours?”

The clouds above pull back, allowing moonlight to once again illuminate our damp path.

“For the time being, they belong to you,” he says, sidestepping a massive tree trunk covered in dark fungi. “They will ensure you uphold your end of the bargain.”

A knot forms in my stomach.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “About your friend. I truly am.”

The canopy thins ahead, and more slivers of moonlight pierce the gloom.

“I believe you,” Jaxon says.