Page 60 of The Edge of Darkness

“Nivelle, this is my Dionam, Auren, and her mate, Niall, the High Lord of Calledan. And this”—he gestured to the commander behind us—“is Roirdan, commander of Niall’s armies.”

The witch regarded us all for another long moment, lingering on Roirdan’s hulking frame like she was sizing him up for a challenge. He crossed his arms, weathering her stare.

Finally, she lifted her chin and said to the lot of us, “You should not have come.”

Silas was right. Nivelle was nothing like I had expected, and her first words had not been the least bit welcoming. I felt like I was breaking some sort of ancient rule just by being in her cottage.

The wights sat curiously at her feet, their ghostly tails swishing silently. One word from her, and they’d probably do her bidding. Roirdan kept a watchful side-eye on each and every one of them.

The witch turned to Silas. “You should have known better than to bring them here.”

Silas looked a bit offended, but it was Niall who spoke up. “We needed confirmation.”

“Confirmation of what? Your lineage?” Nivelle snapped as she appraised Niall from head to toe.

Amused, he tilted his head. “Now, why would I need that?”

She huffed a laugh. “You don’t know? Funny. I can smell it on you. That . . . darkness that lingers in your blood.”

Niall stiffened. He clearly wasn’t expecting her to be targeting him or his power. But she left him with that thought and examined me next.

“You’re the one the prophecy spoke of. Daughter of the god-king.” Her voice pitched low as she came closer. “A ward breaker with light in her veins.”

It wasn’t a question but I answered it nonetheless. “I am.”

The wights’ ears twitched toward me, but Nivelle didn’t look amused. “What more needs confirming?”

Before I could respond, Roirdan moved. His shadow swallowed the witch as he stepped up to my side and peered down at her. “If you knew who she was, you should have also known we wouldn’t let just anyone near her, even if they claim to be her guardian. We want confirmation that Silas is who he says he is.”

Nivelle tilted her head back to look up at the commander, her eyes glittering with defiance. “And who are you to make such demands for her?”

“Think of me as one of her other guardians.” He leaned forward until he and the witch were eye to eye. “And I’ll be your worst nightmare if you don’t show some respect to her and the High Lord.”

Nivelle matched his tone, her lips peeling back in a snarl. “You would threaten me in my own home?”

Roirdan put a hand on the pommel of his sword and grinned. “Would you like for me to do it again, witch?”

At Nivelle’s feet, a wight sank back on its haunches, poised to strike. Roirdan jerked, attempting to unsheathe his sword, but Nivelle simply flicked her finger, conjuring a crackling rope made of blue light, and bound his hand to the hilt of his blade.

The wight settled, then hissed at the commander as if to say, Try that again, I dare you.

Nivelle watched Roirdan’s muscles strain as he struggled to free himself from her magic.

The rope she’d conjured wasn’t budging.

“My worst nightmare?” she cooed.

Roirdan’s head snapped up, but something like pure, carnal delight flashed in his eyes, recognizing and relishing the challenge.

Silas reached out, throwing a hand between his sister and the commander before they went for each other’s throats.

Roirdan scoffed at the move, working his jaw as he sized up the small witch before him. He leaned into Silas and mumbled, “I like her.”

“That’s enough—the both of you,” Silas said. “I want Auren’s mate and the rest of their group to feel confident that I am who I say I am, and that I have no foul intentions. Until then, they have a right to be suspicious.”

Nivelle narrowed her eyes on Roirdan a final time before looking at Niall. “Torin delivered the message from Karios, and I relayed it to Silas. There is your confirmation. Now go, before you attract unwanted attention to my domain.”

She turned, but Silas grabbed her gently by the arm. “Velle, please.” The nickname felt oddly personal, and the look that she gave him in return seemed softer, meeker. Like there was another side of her hidden beneath that steely façade. Finally, she relented, giving the subtlest of nods, and Silas let her go.