Page 54 of What Lies Within Blood & Heirs

“Have their dutiesas my Shadow Order, as well as you,general.” Dark, cold, matchless power, then, “You forget yourself, Realmpiercer.” Shadows coiled off his shoulders, head poised high, displaying him as leader of the Dragon’s Legion. The only thing missing was an obsidian-spiked crown to exude his sovereignty.

Golden eyes swept between the waiting sentries to the stern face of their High Prince. With brimstoned intensity, Thalon conceded, “Apologies, sire.”

But that bite of his tongue … it felt more like a spoken lashing than anything else. Thalon was angry. Perhaps more worried, but even so, she saw it written on his face as he bent at the waist, almost dismissively, and bowed.Submission and rebellion all at once.

It was the first time she’d seen Thalon bow to Garrik. The first time she had witnessed a shred of disrespect from him.

From the look on her High Prince’s face, he wasn’t pleased about it.

Thalon didn’t utter another word and stormed away. That calming air that usually hovered around him left too.

Her High Prince’s expression boiled. The hand on the pommel of his sword tightened until his knuckles blanched. And before Garrik unleashed any sort of punishment, darkened silverroamed to the sentries instead, whose gazes were downcast in fear a lashing would be carried out on them. “Prepare Ghost.”

Their attention snapped upward with stiff nods.

“Yes, sire.”

It took the sentries all of ten minutes to locate Ghost, prepare her tack, and settle her untied within the Shadow Order’s camp. Garrik still wore his leathers—still wore his clothing from Fourtress underneath. With a sword sheathed to his back and one to his side, Garrik effortlessly mounted.

Taking the reins, he at last captured Alora’s gaze as she scratched Ghost’s nose.

“Don’t be mad at him. Thalon’s only worried about you.” She didn’t stifle the uneasy frown. He needed to see it. “We all are. We hate when you leave, especially alone.”

Garrik sighed heavily, eyes flickering across the tents as if in search of their Guardian. “I know,” he said. His eyes drifted to her. Then added, “Brennus is harmless. Thalon’s worry is misplaced.”

A foolish part of her wanted to call it for what it was. A lie.

He knew it. She knew it.

They allknewit.

Ghost stomped the dirt when Garrik offered an honest grin. “I wish to speak with you when I return. About last night. Wait for me?”

Alora rolled her bottom lip between her teeth.

His eyes narrowed, tracking the movement before a low growl vibrated from his chest.

It set her insides molten. But she only said, “Come back to us, Your Royal Highn-ass.”

With a wolfish tilt to his head, Garrik straightened in the saddle as Smokeshadows turned him into darkness.

A tickle brushed her palm.

She didn’t have to look. She knew by the soft, delicate structure.

A pearl petal flower was in her hand.

Black dots spotted her vision as she stared directly into blistering sunlight. Flat on her back, sweat slicked her forehead, and an angry pain stabbed behind her eyes as she blinked and blinked and?—

A shadow blocked out the sun. The tip of sharpened gold tapped her chest, right on the Dragon’s emblem.

“Pay attention,” Thalon scolded, voice cutting as sharp as the sword he held, laced with unease and a hint of frustration. He loomed over her like death.

She couldn’t blame him. Having fallen on her ass nearly ten times in the last hour, she grew increasingly irritated with herself.

Alora blinked, groaning as her hand flattened against her forehead and brushed down her face.

That golden sword tapped again. She wasn’t foolish enough to glare up at him. “Distractions get you killed. In combat, your focus should be on your opponent, not on whatever’s inside your daydream. You know that, starfire.”

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