Page 27 of Captive of Secrets and Storms

One heartbeat passes. Then two.

Then the darkness lifts.

The tendril holding my arm loosen.

My head whips from left to right. The screams and shouts from the surrounding crowd have stopped. Men and women go about their business, their bright, rich clothes swishing on the breeze winding through the street. No one looks our way.

What in the hells…

Erling whistles low. He claps with a slow, dramatic rhythm and looks at Draven. “Impressive.”

Draven’s face remains unreadable, though a faint shimmer of darkness clings to his irises.

“What do you want, Erling?” Rian asks, voice clipped.

“Nothing.” The blond man’s grin returns. “I was merely saying hello to the lady. Wasn’t I, Elara?”

His voice coils around my name like a threat.

Rian’s voice is soft but lethal. “Do not speak to her.”

“Or what?” Erling’s smile widens.

His canines gleam, sharper than before.

My stomach drops. He’s Fae.

But unlike the males beside and behind me, Erling looks nothing like the dark, ominous Fae who wield shadows like extra limbs. Whose darkness can block out the sun in the sky and slice my skin into ribbons.

No, Erling is sun-kissed and bright. Open and bold. I scan his entire body, searching for any hint of the dark power, but there isn’t a shadow that isn’t cast by the dim sunlight shining through the cloudy sky.

My gut says these males are not Shadow Fae. But that doesn’t make sense. Shadow Fae are the only Fae who exist.

Aren’t they?

“Do I need to remind you of our treaty, Erling?” Draven’s low voice promises violence. “Or the cost your people will pay if you break it?”

“Typical Shadows,” one of Erling’s guards sneers. His words carry the same thick accent. “Always with the threats.”

Draven’s lips curl. “Typical Mountain Fae… Pretending at civility while wearing the skins of beasts.”

Erling’s fangs descend even farther, the sharp ends digging into his chin, close to drawing blood. “Watch your tongue.”

Draven throws his words back to him. “Or what?”

Rian’s shadows slink around my waist and draw me back so he can stand in front of me. “You walk a thin line, Erling.”

“Funny, I could say the same, Highness.”

My temples throb.

Erling knows Rian is the Shadow Prince. He’s Fae, but he isn't deferring to the future ruler.

What in the Gods’ names is going on?

Highland Fae… Mountain Fae… So many unfamiliar phrases exchanged. My fingers itch to search my Fae tome or diary for answers. Because even though Rian lifted his shadows, I remain in the dark. And I will stay here for the foreseeable future.

Unless I do something about it.