Page 102 of What Lies Within Blood & Heirs

“No, please!” Arzen thrashed in his bonds.

“The time for begging is over.” Garrik paused. “The moment you lured her into the woods, you were all fucking dead.”

“You’re dead!”the remaining blond Ayeletean with antlers screamed from across the cells.

They had all watched as Garrik, with imperceivable speed, gripped the back of the twin’s head and chin, twisted up at an angle, and snapped his neck.

The Raven now slumped as the chains holding his arms above his head prevented him from pooling on the floor like a discarded cloak.

Garrik’s abyss for eyes met Rune’s without a single trace of remorse.

Rune simply dropped his head against the wall and arrogantly smirked. “Kill me and my gods will seek vengeance on Elysian.”

“So be it.” Garrik’s fist collided with Rune’s face so brutally the chains ripped from the ceiling, and he flew across the cell. Rune’s body lay motionless on the floorboards, bleeding from his nose, mouth, and ear. Then Garrik turned to the twin Raven, still cursing over the death of his brother.

But it was Arzen who called out, “Elysian whore.”

Arching a brow, Garrik chuckled. “Cute.” Like he had not heard that before. Turning his gaze to the young male. “It makes little difference which of you dies next. But since you are oh-so-willing to scream—” Shadows burst around him, engulfing him in a storm before they swallowed him whole and misted away.

Garrik reappeared, stepping from his Smokeshadows a mere foot from Arzen. Shadows danced and coiled around his murderous figure as he stalked closer. Garrik’s steps were daunting, measured. In his hand, a sword stained with blood at its tip appeared.

The same sword that had sunk into Alora’s shoulder.

His darkened eyes watched the flickering glow of torches reflect off the metal before they burned over Arzen, whose eyes had suddenly widened. “Judging by the look in your eyes andyour screaming mind, I am quite certain you know what is coming next.” Garrik’s free hand gripped Arzen’s shoulder. The other surged backward, positioning the sword at his throat.

“Garrik,wait.” Thalon pushed from the iron bars, ripping the lantern from the wall before he dropped it close to the Raven’s face. “How didn’t we see it before?His eyes.”

Stiffening, Garrik’s jaw tightened. He whipped his head to the other lying unconscious on the wooden boards of the cell and to the Ayeletean who hung from his arms. One quick glance at Aiden had their sea captain forcing each of their eyes open before he turned and sighed.

“Two.” Aiden gestured his chin toward Arzen. Chin-length hair swayed in the motion as he spoke to Garrik. “Yours and him.” Nodding toward Rune.

Garrik’s eyes, clouded by darkness, did not see the lack of color. His world was wholly black and white until serpent darkness receded and color returned to his vision.

Like his own, their eyes … were colorless.

They were magic-washed.

Prisoners to their minds. None of their actions were their own.

Garrik turned from Arzen and pierced his gaze into the blond male. The only one who had acted of his own free will …

And the only one who would pay for Alora’s suffering.

Smokeshadows tore around the Raven, turning him into shadows until he was forced on his knees in front of Garrik.

A torch dawned into Garrik’s hand before the male’s eyes widened. A wicked smirk played on his lips as he said, “Say hello to your brother for me.” Before that torch lowered and engulfed him and the ship in the male’s screams.

It was dark. Had been dark for a while. A flickering lantern was the first thing Alora saw, dancing shadows across the canvas ceiling when her heavy eyelids half-opened. Although her body felt scorching like Firekeeper’s flames, relief quivered inside her.

Her starfire had returned, searing through her veins.

How long had darkness covered her? Had she been in the grasp of the Ravens? And if she felt her starfire now … was Arzen dead?

The last hours—days perhaps—replayed with a pounding ache behind her eyes. Every gruesome detail surfaced while her eyes narrowed on the flickering shadows above her.

Fearing movement, fearing sharp pain from her wounds, Alora raked her eyes over the ceiling with hanging lanterns lit. They traveled down the paneling of amethyst, emerald, teal, and onyx above her bed, over the gold-flecked stars, until she laid her eyes on the fluttering tent entrance. A soothing aroma of the campfire and pearlseas graced her senses.

Then she could only smile.

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