Garrik, the ruthless, savage High Prince of Elysian, Lord of Darkness and commander of endless shadows, subdued byherhold. She wasn’t naïve in thinking she held any power greater than those of his own. But their position burned something fierce inside her, as it did when she stood before her illusion of Kaine. And even if he was restraining himself, even if he could simply dawn or pull his head from her grasp, she knew that whatever shattered and repaired itself in her last night was fueling a new inferno within.
Thiswas exhilarating. Power. Control. Fearlessness. A desire to be something more.
Something much more.
Could he see it in her eyes, too? A shift. Is that why, as he only pressed against her hand, he didn’t overpower her and push her away? Those new embers in her eyes. The ones glimmering and teeming with newfound strength, where she would no longer picture herself as small—a particle of dust in the storm of her High Prince’s Dragons.
And standing there, like that, she knew how high her head held and unmistakably noticed how her dagger didn’t tremble in her grasp.
Alora loosened her grip on his silken hair. But Garrik subtly groaned in disappointment. “Pity, I hoped you wanted me to persuade you otherwise.”
With a wry grin, her hand tightened once more, and he hissed with a pleased smile. This time, yanking him backward onto his back with a burst of air from his lungs.
He actually lookedsurprised.
In a swift motion, Alora twisted, threw her armored leg over his torso, and jammed a knee to his chest. Her obsidian dagger’s edge rested on the shining black dragon carved into his armor, his roaring fiery insignia over every Dragon’s heart.
Glowing with white embers, Alora’s palm pressed into Garrik’s shoulder. The armor lit up in her controlled burn.
A curse escaped his lips. “Careful, darling.” A sharp warning. He wasn’t playing anymore.
But she was. “It’s you who should be careful. You may have devised this scheme and led me out here, but it’s I who will end it. Afraid I’ll overcome you?” The dagger pressed an indent in his armor. “The mighty High Prince, championed by one so …foolishly unprepared.”
Maybe it was adrenaline from the hunt or her nerves on edge because of Garrik’s unknown condition. But stars, she felt like a …lioness. Her roar had been silenced for far too long. Words ruthlessly shoved so deep inside and caged until hardly a breath could escape. Her claws ripped out and teeth dulled by years of hands that no longer controlled her.
Not anymore.
Never again.
Alora wanted him to push back. Wanted to feel herself release that tether she kept hold of for too long. Wanted to take on the wolf that prowled by her feet and guarded her nights.
But cold palms cautiously wrapped around both her wrists, and he pressed his body deeper into the dirt as if to restrain himself.
Garrik released a cautionary growl, “Alora. This is done.”
“No.” Her eyes glistened.
“I could hurt you.” He growled again and moved to rise, but her knee pressed harder. “Alora.”
In the glow of her embers, her eyes shifted to his.
Her High Prince tilted his gaze upward to pin her with his silver, starlight glimmered brighter in their shadows. She couldn’t tell if they reflected her burning embers or the night sky. But the pale celestial flecks kindled strange fires that danced across his obsidian irises, as though the night sky itself wasn’t only mirrored but contained in twinkling miniature behind that dark gaze.
“You can move when I say.” Her eyes were fixed so sharply they could slice diamonds as she threw authority into her breathless voice.
Garrik’s hair fanned around him against the dirt, pressing back with a tortured sigh. “What do you want, Alora? What is this?”
“Why are you out here?”
His eyes evaded hers, pivoting his head, looking into the distance.
The cold blade of her dagger brushed his cheek, the matte smoke embellishments touching his skin as she forced his head back to look at her. “One more day. Youpromised.”
Garrik’s tense face relaxed.
Something blazing and wet scorched down her cheek. Tears of anger as she shook out in a breath. “You. Promised.”
“I know.” His hand cradled her knee, thumb brushing above it. “And I meant it. I am not going anywhere. At least not until Magnelis is dead. Then, Destiny can decide.” Alora’s lip quivered, and she moved to speak, but Garrik’s other hand brushed up her thigh and squeezed. “You will not be rid of me that quickly. I have to get you to Dellisaerin first.” Another promise.