Page 81 of Prince of Darkness and Deceit

The hair on my arms stands at attention. My head snaps up. The cloaked monster’s red eyes burn with retribution, but then its eerie eyes fly up.

Its cracked lips part in shock and terror.

Something heavy drapes the earth—dark as death, yet laced with the shimmer of salvation. Power thrums beneath its weight, promising either ruin or redemption.

My veins flare with a surge of magic just as a blurred form emerges from the forest.

The monsters screech.

Through the darkness, I can’t make out what I’m seeing. Not until vibrant silver eyes flare.

Rian.

The moonlight catches the gleam of his blade, which pulses with blue and white light. The weapon illuminates Rian’s face, highlighting the promise of violence etched across his handsome features.

A second figure emerges from the dark. Jaxon. He approaches Rian with an outstretched arm. Without a word, Rian hands him the glowing sword. Then Jaxon grins. And leaps.

The monsters keen and wail, skittering back. But it’s too late.

The Fae spins and slices. The beasts separate, concerned with only their own survival. The blade whistles through the air. An arm hits the ground. Dark, sizzling liquid pours out of the beast’s wound.

A quick downward strike cuts off the velcrin’s ear-splitting cry. The beast’s slacked jaw showcases all of its jagged teeth as it rolls on the dirt and stops less than two feet from me.

Bile claws up my throat. I jump back when the decapitated head glows blue then explodes into a cloud of dust and shadow. I suck in a breath and gag when the gritty particles scratch the back of my throat.

Ugh. What in the Gods⁠—

“Elara!” Ferria crashes into my side.

I cry out when her momentum jostles my dislocated arm.

“Sorry,” she pants, frantic hands hovering over me. Wild curls fall over her face. She shoves them back. “Tell me what to do.”

“Grab my wrist. Pull my arm straight out—slow at first.”

She does, lips pressed tight, eyes wide.

Sweat beads on my temples. “Good. Now—rotate the arm outward. Keep pulling. Just…whatever you do…don’t stop.”

“Elara—”

“Do it.”

Ferria breathes in and yanks. Pain crashes through me, jagged and bright, like lightning cracking stone.

My scream rips through the still air, and then⁠—

Pop.

I collapse forward, soaked in sweat, gasping like I’ve surfaced from drowning.

“Gods. Elara…” Ferria grips my hips to keep me from face-planting on the dirt. “Are you okay?”

I nod once and huff a shaky laugh.

“Congratulations,” I croak. “You didn’t break my arm.”

She chokes on her own laugh.