Page 123 of What Lies Within Blood & Heirs

A tightness settled in Garrik’s throat.

After the war with Magnelis was over, after Elysian was restored, the beast could be slain. He could be slain. They could be free?—

Free of him.

Something like glimmering shards of sunlight tore through his magic. No—it did not tear. It shot through the opening he allowed only forthem,his family.

Come join us, brother.Thalon’s voice echoed so clearly as if it could guide the voices—the screams—away.

Very well.He had left Ladomyr’s court to cower in unease long enough.

Garrik stepped forward until his boots stopped inches from his Shadow Order. They turned, and each one seemed to know what he would say before he did so.

Aiden offered his arm to Alora. A small hint of disappointment but understanding stirred across her features as she found Garrik, and he nodded.

He would not be escorting her, not anyone.

Alora looped her arm around Aiden’s as Thalon flattened his palm over the neck-high back of Jade’s dress and escorted her forward.

“Shall we, lady Alora?” Aiden beamed and puffed his chest, wiggling his shoulders as if he could not possibly stand still in his excitement.

Alora rolled her eyes. “Notlady,” she corrected.

“Right, then. Shall we,not-ladyAlora?” Aiden winked.

Garrik suppressed the urge to smile.

Then his skin rippled as every vein from his fingertips to his chest and neck formed like lighting branches, including those around his eyes. His vision swirled into shades of a grayscale as oblivion took hold. The dagger-like points of his teeth slicked across his tongue as his facial bones melded to sharpened points.

Garrik’s voice, like the terrible monster he was Made to be, ripped along the grandeur and flecked into every polished surface as each one of his Shadow Order’s eyes went as ravenous as his.

He turned to the hallway. The pitiful ilk deep inside laughing, raising glasses, unaware that ruthless fury and a starving hunger of bloodlust prowled their halls.

The Savage Prince stalked to the edge of the hallway. Smokeshadows crawled across the floor in front of him like an ominous fog as, one by one, the gleaming faelights along the walls snuffed out with darkness.

Ladomyr’s court was about to play his game, whether they wanted to or not.

The throne room fell deadly quiet as shadows seeped from underneath the double wooden doors. Below the dais, standing shoulder to shoulder with the Shadow Order and facing the multitude of nervous nobility, Alora’s heart slammed against her ribcage—not in fear, but in blaring anticipation.

Hewas coming.

They all felt it—death prowled behind the doors.

A bone-chilling frost, one that threatened to freeze Firekeeper’s realm, covered the room. Aiden squeezed his fists when Jade shivered. Thalon blew vapor from his breath. The crystalline and ruby chandeliers on the whitewashed wooden ceiling and golden sconces on the walls flickered in retreat. Phantom gusts made the deep purple curtains sway as condensation droplets trickled down the ceiling-high windows, exposing the night.

The doors burst open.

Slamming into the walls—the sound like necks snapping.

Darkness menacingly crept, snuffing out the light enough that each terrified face was pale, quivering.

Not a soul spoke. Likely sealing their death if they did.

From the storm of shadows, a boot parted the whorls. Like dusk falling, a monstrous silhouette feathered into existence. It almost appeared as if Darkness himself had made him into the Celestial’s likeness. Because hewasdarkness.

A monster, void of all light, manifested from the vortices. A shadow head tilted high, exuding authority and demanding reverence in the very air he commanded.

Oblivion. It was the first thing Alora saw. Drawn to where his eyes should be.

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