Page 98 of What Lies Within Blood & Heirs

Her unfocused eyes met Garrik’s.Wait. He’s a null. The shield?—

“Aiden!”Garrik’s head whipped to their sea captain, who fell rigid halfway up the hill. His figure was merely a silhouette against camp’s firelight. Smokeshadows whirled beside Aiden’s hand until a glass vial and syringe dropped and he clasped his fist around them.

Aiden shouted up the hill, carrying away into the distance of camp.

But Arzen wasn’t the only threat. What if Rune still lived? The others? She’d left them there. Rune had groaned. There was no mistaking it. If they recovered. If they escaped …

There are more Ravens out—Alorawinced at the sharp pain in her side, cutting off her thoughts.

Garrik didn’t hesitate. His eyes burned into the golden orbs in front of them. “Get the Wingborne and scouts to the forest,” growling to Thalon, vibrating through her body as the sound of Thalon’s voice called to Deimon. She moved to speak, but Garrik’s hand cupped her cheek. “It is alright, Ara. I can see the rest. You have done enough.”

Silver eyes softened, and she felt that gentle caress brush her mind, sweeping in like a hurricane. Still, even in the chaos, he waited to invade until Alora allowed him in. Seeing the memory replayed. Watching the uncertain path through the forest to the lake. The one that hopefully would lead them to the Raven’s camp where she left them defenseless to a well-deserved death—if they weren’t prisoners to Firekeeper’s realm already.

The shadows inside her mind receded, leaving her feeling lost and empty as Garrik’s darkened eyes swept to his soldiers. To Thalon.

His body rippled and flexed until every muscle pulled taut, and he gritted out with absolute finality, “Guardian.” It was Thalon who then stiffened at his sacred title, gripping his inkedhand on the pommel of his golden sword, when Garrik growled, “This is an act of war.”

Thalon pulled his shoulders back, registering the words. What they meant. “Unleash Michael,” he cursed, eyes widening as he took in his High Prince. Of Alora in his arms. Of Garrik’s subtle nod.

Eyes as bright as sunlight darkened before their Guardian turned to Deimon, whose wary gaze locked onto Garrik’s swirling abyss and those night-dark feathered wings flexed wide.

With one final glance at Thalon and the urgent words spoken between them, Deimon shot skyward fast as striking lightning. His fierce voice commanded orders through the chilled air, angling his blade toward the forest. An instant later, the sounds of whirring and beating wings echoed across the valley, and a pair of pearly-white wings erupted into the chaos after them.

Garrik shuffled on his knees before that royal language escaped his lips. Low and quiet, as if he spoke only to himself. That once beautiful melody she could get lost listening to was now cold and dark and unforgiving. Causing her bones to quake in the severity of it. Of his voice changed and morphed into that of the Savage Prince.

Then Smokeshadows detonated from him.

Braiding into the sky. Bursting in every direction as they merged with the night. Those beautifully deadly Smokeshadows vanished across the horizon like drops of water rippling the surface of a lake. Leaving the incoming glow of dawn to greet them.

Shaking, his palm cupped her spinning head. Incredible muscles rippled beneath her as he stood in urgency, lifting her to his bare chest. Strong arms banded behind her back and under her knees.

“You did good, clever girl. I am getting you out of here. Stay with me.”

No.Her heart dropped. She had endangered camp to save herself. “Magic,” she choked out. “I used?—”

“I know. It is alright. I will take care of it.” Quivering lips pressed into her bloodstained hair.

At last, her heart split in two. “I’m sorry,” she choked.

Glassy silver found her like he heard everything those two words didn’t speak. Like he was still inside her mind, viewing the replay of a tavern brawl and an outstretched hand fit to burst into flame. Angrily shouting at her after his magic diffused the situation. After he informed her of the stakes and stupidity of her actions. How with one slip of her magic, their efforts would have been for nothing. They would all be dead.

Just like now.

They will all be dead.

But Garrik’s voice fell wholly calm and gentle. “You are alive. That is all that matters.”

Smokeshadows stormed around them, turning the view of the valley into clouds of ash and smoke-kissed wind while she fought to focus on the silver of his eyes.

Alora’s head fell limply against his solid chest. Over the starburst scar at his heart. And there was his heartbeat. His magnificent, incredible, unusual heartbeat. Resounding at the center of her mind.

Darkness spotted in her vision. She was fading, felt the absence of life emptying from her veins, and heard herself whisper, “I feel like I’m dying.”

Velvety shadows made them weightless. Turned them into his incredible darkness until it was only him and her and nothing else but his warm stern voice among the storm.

“As long as my heart beats, and long after, I will not allow that to happen.”

Now was not the time to fall apart. But it was happening regardless.

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