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The formal guards’ determination and resolve to perform their duty and their bonds of camaraderie flickered in a protective circle around us. Within the circle, Greyson, Piro, Kent, and I stood alone outside Stanton’s ward.

Filtering through the overwhelming intensity of Greyson’s magic and Piro’s brighter, warmer power, I visually traced the thick thread of friendship that bound them, reinforcing their individual strengths into an indomitable force that was feeding a joint protection spell coating Stanton’s toxic ward.

Sensations of defense, protection, and containment swept over me as I pushed my senses through their joint efforts. Ignoring the interplay of their work and Stanton’s, I held my breath and pressed through the grating resistance of Stanton’s ward. I swallowed back the resultant bile in my throat.

Once free, I could see the trio in the center much more clearly. Mela’s terror and flutter of life drew me via our bond, but I fought the urge to reach for her. I could comfort her later.

Stanton snarled and shouted another threat at Greyson. Mela flinched.

“Can you see?” Kent’s voice asked softly.

“Almost there.” My skin burned and prickled. I could feel the raw edge of Stanton’s ward clawing at my magic, trying to grab hold and rip it away from me.

Wait! I held my breath and turned my full focus to Stanton and the former king.

Stanton glowed with power, but it felt wrong—foreign—like it was not his own. Behind him, the former king huddled, pulling away from Stanton, despite the thread of connection binding them. But it wasn’t a thread of friendship like Greyson and Piro’s or a familial binding of blood. It didn’t match my connection with Mela, the warmth of chosen family. It burned like Stanton’s ward, but the sensation was stronger, more acidic.

“Stanton is using your sire’s magic.”

Kent’s grip on my shoulders tightened.

I traced the connection back to the twisted hulk of the former king.

Then, the connection pulsed. The former king flinched, his glow fading slightly. Stanton’s glow flared temporarily brighter before he launched a spell.

A blinding explosion erupted across my senses, ripping me from my connection and jolting my awareness back into the tangible world. My whole body hurled backward.

Kent’s arms closed around me as he anchored us, using a rooting spell to keep us upright. Gasping for air, I pressed my face into his chest. The pounding of his heart beneath my head matched the thundering in my chest.

“He is feeding off of your father’s with some kind of spell. It isn’t just taking his magic, though.” I lifted my head and met Kent’s gaze. “He is draining his lifeforce, and the king is almost out of reserves. Your father is dying.”

Horror flickered across Kent’s expression before his jaw firmed with resolve. “How much time do we have?”

“Moments, minutes, I can’t say for sure.”

He nodded. “Then we have to break Stanton’s ward.”

“Won’t the backlash kill your father? And what about Mela? Will it hurt her?” I grasped for ideas.

“Could you sever their connection?”

“I don’t know.” I had never tried touching connections between people. However, I had been learning bits and pieces of magic theory as part of my training. I didn’t know enough to do much, but I had learned enough to know that my combination of fae and elven abilities had created a new manifestation. No one truly knew what I was capable of. “It might kill both of them,” I said.

He grimaced. “But it shouldn’t harm Mela.”

“Possibly.”

“Do your best. I will run interference.” He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “I love you.” Then he was gone, striding across the gap between us to where Greyson and Piro were working a second defensive ward to back up their first. Behind them, the remaining courtiers clustered into two groups, those who were attempting to help Greyson and Piro, and those who stood on the edges of the cleared area and gaped in fascination.

Nerio ran up to me. “Kent ordered me to guard you. What do you need?”

“I am going to attempt to cut Stanton from his source of power, the former king.”

To my shock, Nerio simply nodded. “A defensive ward for you while you work then?”

“Yes, and a promise to rush in and grab Mela if this goes badly.”

He nodded gravely. “Understood.”