Page 165 of Captive of Secrets and Storms

I don’t see how.

Sure, Rian is his friend and cousin, but the prince answers to the same master who killed Petra.

How can Darius stay by Rian’s side, knowing his path could lead him back to the male who stole his love from him?

Those questions and so many more burn on my tongue, but I don’t give them life.

I don’t understand the circumstances that led to the king cursing Darius or the death of his mate, and while they matter, they are not the pressing issue at hand today.

Magic trickles from my fingertips, crawling down the chair’s legs. The light is dim, controlled, as it slithers across the floor.

I need to cure Darius.

But, more importantly, I need him to want to be cured.

“I didn’t know your mate,” I say, voice soft, attempting to distract him from the magic inching its way up his chair’s leg. “But I doubt she’d want you to succumb to the curse.”

The power spreads along the seat. Sweat beads on my forehead. A thin tendril reaches out, reminiscent of the Fae’s shadows, and brushes along the edge of his tunic.

He snorts, shifting in his seat.

I stiffen.

“Petra is gone,” he mutters. “Her wants are no longer relevant.”

“You can’t truly believe that.” My healing magic pivots and travels along his arm, the light pulsing as it moves toward his chest.

The look he levels on me is so pitiful, so…empty.

The gaping loneliness threatens to pull me under, tossing me in the sea of despair that lives behind Darius’s carefree mask.

How did I not notice how broken he is?

The magic coiled behind my heart warms, eager to join the tendril I sent to assess Darius’s health, desperate to help.

I hold it back but give the magic hovering over his chest the go-ahead to proceed.

With a flare of blinding brightness, the power dives beneath Darius’s tunic and skin.

He sucks in a sharp breath and jerks back, eyes flying wide⁠—

Darkness slams into me like a tidal wave. I’m a small, fragile dinghy, tossed violently as the entity inside Darius surges up to meet me—vast, ancient, and far stronger than I prepared for.

A hiss escapes my lips as the force rattles me to my core.

The curse has spread.

Far.

“Touching a male without asking permission…” Darius pants, his voice strained. “I didn’t think you were that kind of woman.”

I ignore the weak attempt at humor.

I push myself upright, close the distance between us, and drop to my knees at his side. His fists are clenched tight, knuckles pale. I take one in mine, grounding us both, and force more power forward.

Light crashes into darkness.

The collision sends a violent tremor through me.