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He leaned forward, his presence suffocating, his weight smothering. Grazing the side of her neck with his lips, he murmured, “Do not fear, mi umbrae regina. Soon you will forget all about him. I will snuff out whatever tiny, insignificant bit of himself he may have left with you. We will be so much more.”
Elyria recoiled, her shadows writhing, struggling, in her veins. Just as she struggled against Malakar’s grip on her shoulder, cutting herself further on his knife as she tried to twist against the ever-tightening bind of his blood magic.
“Shh,” crooned the dark sorcerer, sweeping his hand gently—lovingly—down the length of her blood-soaked back, hooking his fingers into her waistband.
This wasn’t happening.
This would not be how it ended.
Elyria shut her eyes, diving into the rattling box inside herself, filling every thought with memories of him, with warm embraces, with safety, with cold cider and friendly laughter, with the thrill of training, the feel of Sid’s fur under her fingertips, the wonder of her magic—anything, anything, anything that wasn’t the here and now.
That pang behind her ribs was still pulsing, pounding—someone trying to beat down a door.
That’s when she felt it.
A spark.
A speck.
A kernel of light.
It flared bright in the center of her chest, washed through her veins, illuminated her from within. More and more, it grew and spread and shone, igniting the edge of her shadows until they, too, seemed made of sunfyre.
Only for a second.
An instant.
A moment.
Just long enough.
Because, with a hissed curse, Malakar suddenly wasn’t there anymore. Not with his weight on her back, nor his lips at her neck. Not pressing himself against her. Not carving into her skin or whispering in her ear.
His magic wasn’t there anymore either, she realized. Those bloody ribbons had dissipated, her limbs finally loose again, her body free.
Elyria fell forward, her knees hitting the floor, just barely catching herself with her hands before her face plummeted into the blood-soaked rug.
Vaguely, she registered shouting.
Heard the pounding of boots on stone.
And then felt herself being flung aside, some unseen force blasting into her, shooting her body backward, where she collided with the heavy entry doors, her head slamming against the metal.
She blinked, dizzy. Her mind felt cloudy. Like it was filled with smoke.
No. Not just her mind.
Because when Elyria lifted her head, her vision blurred, her body aching, the hall was on fire.
13
THE SUNFYRE HEIR
CEDRIC
She was close.
The instant he stepped out of the dark, Elyria’s presence wrapped around Cedric. The tether in his chest thrummed to life, his lungs filling with new air, as though he hadn’t taken a true breath in weeks.
