Page 83 of Captive of Secrets and Storms

“Excellent.” Augustus rises. “Then we have a deal.”

My stomach sinks as Darius steps forward. A manacle hovers over his wrist.

Click.

The cuff closes with sharp finality.

Draven is next.

Darius cuffs his brother without ceremony.

Silas squeezes my fingers once before releasing me, stepping forward, and offering Darius his wrists.

The chainless bands snap shut.

One by one, the Fae’s power gutters out.

Not violently. Not with protest. Just…gone. Like candles snuffed between fingers, leaving no smoke behind, no trace that anything ever burned there at all.

My heart pounds hard enough to hurt. My gaze seeks out Rian’s, but he never looks away from the mayor.

I wait for the moment someone tells me to step forward—to bare my wrists for my own pair of manacles.

But that moment never comes.

Darius hands the Shadow Prince a set of the oppressive, dark cuffs. Rian holds Augustus’s stare as he snaps one manacle over his wrist, then the other.

The cloud above us dissolves, and so does the ever-present pulse of shadow magic that hums in my bones whenever the Shadow Prince is near.

Its absence is wrong.

Unnatural.

Darius approaches the mayor and holds out a thick, iron key.

Augustus accepts it with a curt nod. “I trust you will not attempt to remove the restraints?”

“It would be impossible without magic,” Darius replies, his lips thinning.

His skin looks…paler.

A cold wave crashes through me.

Gods…his curse!

My gaze drifts to Darius’s chest, to the place the curse lingers. Without his power to hold it at bay, what will happen to his body?

Helen clears her throat.

“We are honored by your presence at our son’s celebrations, Your Highness. Jason.” She turns. “Escort our guests to their rooms.”

I drag my gaze back to her son.

He’s already looking at me.

Watching.

A slow, knowing smile curls his lips. “Of course, Mother.”