Page 58 of What Lies Within Masks & Shadows

A hand grabbed her shoulder, spinning her around to meet his crimson eyes. Along with battle leathers, a sword glistened, sheathed at his side. “Identify yourselfat once.” He pulled her bruised wrist, forcing her to stand.

She yelped at his embrace, and the sharp pain thrumming up her arm. But the pain was nothing compared to the panic raging inside. Her eyes widened. Lips shaking, unable to form any form of communication whatsoever.

“I—I—” Stuttering, horrified, Alora scanned his angular face. He turned his head and opened his mouth to sound an alarm, but she finally blurted out, “The High Prince”—lips trembling—“he ordered me to return this book to Eldacar. I was about to call out to him.” Alora pulled the blue leather book from her corset.

The sentry took it and hastily flipped through the pages before slamming it shut with a hollow clap. Pausing for a moment, he searched her face before offering it back to her. “On your way then.” He nodded, released his hold, and continued down the path.

That was too close.Releasing a deep breath to settle the rising bile in her throat.

“Hello! Did I hear you say that you’ve brought back the book?” Eldacar poked his head out the window, startling her so badly that her skin almost jumped off the bones.

Shit.“Eldacar!” She backed away slowly and faked a pleasing smile. “Yes…” Alora scratched her neck, concealed one arm behind her back, and then moved to the blackened window. “It was great. Thank you for letting me borrow it.” And handed him the book.

“Wonderful! I do have another one for you. Shall I bring it to dinner, or would you like to take it back with you now?” He beamed.

The possibility of him watching her leave was overwhelmingly high. If she could send him away, she would be able to continue running, and the best chances of that were if he left before she did. “Why don’t you go grab it, and I’ll bring it back with me?” She smiled, hoping that would convince him.

“Splendid! Wait right there.” He dashed back into his library. The sound of thumps and books falling echoed from inside.

Alora didn’t hesitate. It was one straight shot from there through the grid of tents that lay ahead, and as long as she wasn’t discovered by another patrol, she would make it.

But when she arrived at the end of the line, Alora was forced to a stop.

Sentries.

They were stationed forty feet apart, lining the forest’s edge.

To her left, a hitching line teeming with horses was stationed. It stretched a hundred feet with no sentry patrolling between them.

Alora darted to her left and sprinted. Drifting between two horses as another patrol emerged from a pathway, a mere breath away from spotting her. The horse she stood beside startled, swishing its tail and rearing its head. The damn thing was going to betray her position, so Alora reached up and gently stroked its neck, waiting for the patrol to pass.

She hadn’t even considered it after her first failed attempt. But as she stood, cocooned in the shadow of the hitching line and forest, one thing became evident just as before. Her chances of escape were greatly increased on horseback. And just because she was discovered the first time, didn’t mean this time would be the same.

Untying a black mare, she slowly guided it forward by the reins, careful to discern the sentry’s location, until she slipped into the forest unseen.

Freedom.

The thing she had fought viciously for the last few months. It was right within her grasp. All she had to do was run, with nothing to stop her. Not even him. Not Kaine. Not the walls of Telldaira.Nothing. She had made it. Made it out alive. Made it out of whatever Firekeeper-filled-hellwould’ve swallowed herup if she stayed in the manor … stayed there. Freedom. Agency. It all waited for her beyond.

With a swift hop, Alora threw her leg over the mare’s back and steadied her balance. “Let’s get out of here.”

Static energy rippled through her body the moment they crossed the tree line. By Aiden’s explanation alone, Alora recognized it as Garrik’s shield. She fisted the horse’s mane in one hand, the reins in the other, steadying her balance as her vision spotted and a wave of unease stole into her senses as the last reminder of the High Prince’s control over her became a dark memory.

Disoriented, Alora allowed the horse to press forward, nudging its belly with the heel of her boot. It was the only way. She couldn’t have led it herself, not until the shield’s effects wore off.

Closing her eyes, Alora let the relief burn through her veins. Since leaving Rowlen in Rhidian, this was the first moment she felt a sense of true relief.

And when she thought the voice had left her, it haunted her in enough of a plea, shuddering in the depths of her soul, that she almost obeyed it:

Alora, stop. Go back.

But not this time. She was too close to freedom.

Too damn close.

Alora gripped the reins, the dizziness subsiding as she guided the horse over a fallen tree.

Maybe it was that death wish marked on her arm with dancing flames and sparks. Maybe it was pompous pride of her own, but Alora twisted on the horse’s back and found her eyes searching for his tent. One last sign of him.

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