Page 135 of What Lies Within Blood & Heirs

Ezander could hardly push himself from the ground. Blood seeped from his mouth, wiped away by the back of his hand. “I sent you letters!” he admitted through gnashed teeth. “You never responded to them.”

Garrik swung, clipping Ezander’s arm before he could roll away and jump to his feet.

“Starsdamnit,there must’ve been thousands of them!”

Blood pounded in his head. Consuming every thought and feeding others. A pulse of energy rammed into him. Caging him where he stood.

Garrik whipped his gaze to Thalon, whose eyes had filled with holy fire as he twisted that starsdamned ring on his finger.

The fool.

Didn’t he know Garrik’s powers could not contain this? They werehisto command.

Tightening his fist, Garrik willed the shield to surge off him and swung, slicing Ezander’s leg. Drawing blood.

But it was not enough. Not until he drew his last breath.

Ezander panted, wincing from the pain, and hissed, “Look into my memories. You need to see?—”

“Enough!” Garrik thundered, rattling the mountain.

His throat—Garrik was staring at Ezander’s throat when the princeling lunged with a speed he had not yet shown but Garrik remembered was there. Almost like time had sped up. And before Garrik could counter him, the pommel of Ezander’s sword cracked into his jaw, sending him stumbling backward.

If his vision had not already darkened, he would have seen spots. Garrik wildly shook his head and blinked, pushing the pain away when the gleam of metal caught his attention. But his head tried to collect his balance before sharpened iron slashed across his tunic, a hair from mauled flesh.

Everything went silent.

Against the sweat dripping down his abdomen, a frigid chill breezed across his scars.

Color rushed from Ezander’s face as he barely breathed, “Garrik.” There was pain there. Something entirely devastating cloaked the flaxen flecks in his eyes as they observed everyhideous raised ridge on display. That sword gripped so tightly in his hand lowered. The blade embedded itself into the stones beneath their feet. Ezander’s stare did not falter as a haunting question spilled from his mouth, “What …”

“Pick it up,” Garrik snarled. The sound a little more broken than he meant it to be.

“What … what happened to you?”

Garrik’s throat knotted. He suffered a breath, fighting off the memories. Off the poison stirring in his veins. Ignoring it all, ignoring Ezander, Garrik closed the distance between them and lifted his blade to the princeling’s throat. “Pick. It. Up.”

Something cracked in him. Seeped out his soul like a bleeding wound.

Perhaps something in Ezander did, too. As if he held not an ounce of strength remaining, Ezander’s sword clattered to the stones. The sound echoed off the faces of the mountain. There was no denying it. That was genuine pain softening his face. “Gar?—”

“You yield,” Garrik decided with a deep-throated growl. His words clear and lifeless as he cursed, “I will hear no more of your words. If youeverdarken my doorstep, if I ever see even a glimpse of your face, a mention of your name, I will drop your head on the ground.”

The slash of metal breezed along the princeling’s throat, enough to draw a thread-thin line of blood. Ezander’s chin dropped to his chest at the dismissal, yielding as the Savage Prince prowled away.

The same expressionAlora had seen in the Dawnspace not so long ago plagued him now. In Garrik’s eyes … that bloodlust. That desire to obliterate anyone who stepped in his way. Though no one was foolish enough to do so.

Still, she walked to him, determined and unafraid.

Death—terrible, dark, consuming death—raged inside his eyes. Smokeshadows tendriled around him like guardians of the night.

Cold abyss mirrored her reflection the moment they met. Alora deepened a settling breath and stared into those soulless eyes. She extended her hand but hesitated, noticing every Dragon and High Guardsmen still surveyed the thing of nightmares she wanted nothing more than to embrace.

Alora ignored them and managed to warmly smile, whispering, “Tell me what you need.”

Garrik seemed to be teetering on the edge of something animalistic. That beast thrashed to be freed at any moment. His voice was sharp and unrecognizable when he answered, “Silence.” Before the last of the word escaped, Smokeshadows exploded, braiding around him in a murderous frenzy.

The last thing she saw before only a whisper of darkness remained … was those eyes … vacant of all light.

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