Page 66 of Prince of Darkness and Deceit

I open my mouth to demand more of an explanation when a tickling sensation travels over my forearms. I look down with a frown.

I push back my sleeves. The shadows ebb and flow over my skin, sending shocks up my arms. Power… Deep, rich power trails over me. Coming this way.

“Elara?”

I meet Ferria’s wide eyes. She grips her chest.

Does she feel it too?

Her gaze drops to the swirling darkness on my skin. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t⁠—”

The tavern door slams open.

Every soldier in the room grabs their weapons. The music falters, then collapses into silence. I whirl around.

Two broad, black-clad males duck under the doorframe and step inside, their sheer presence warping the air around them.

The Fae’s aura hits me like a tidal wave, dragging me under. I fight it—Gods, I try. But the magic coils around my ribs, claws up my spine, and sinks its teeth into my mind, dragging my eyes to its source.

Rian.

His smoke-gray eyes, rimmed with silver, gleam like a blade under the tavern light as he scans the crowd reeking of fear and hatred. Then his gaze finds mine.

My breath catches. A flicker sparks low in my gut, unwanted, uninvited, impossible to ignore.

No.

I don’t want this… I don’t want him.

But my pulse betrays me.

Rian’s brows lift—the barest shift. The desire to flee from the tavern tears through me.

Gods help me…he knows.

13

This is horrific. Appalling. I can’t be drawn to a Fae.

Attracted, sure. But the tug in my gut, the relentless urge to rise and erase the space between me and Rian, is far too intense. It’s wrong. Disturbing. I don’t understand it. I’ve barely spoken to the male.

And still, the pull grips me, unyielding.

Jaxon steps forward. The tavern floor creaks. My attention snaps to him, and I exhale a sigh of relief now that I’m free of Rian’s consuming stare, even as the unsettling emotions continue to burn through me.

I need to get a hold of myself. I have enough problems without adding fascination with a brusque Fae to the list.

With a deep breath, I take in the room’s atmosphere.

Tension thickens with each step Jaxon takes. Rian is half a step behind. Those seated closest to their path lean away as if afraid the shadows seeping off the males’ shoulders will wrap them in never-ending darkness.

The Fae keep their heads forward as they walk into the tavern. The patrons at the warped bar top scatter when they draw near. All of them except for Anton.

My sister’s apprentice stands facing the Fae with an unreadable expression, muscular arms crossed over his chest. Behind him, Rosie holds a bottle mid-pour, face pale.

A loud laugh pierces the tense air.