Page 260 of What Lies Within Blood & Heirs

Slipping forward, toward his Dragons’ screaming and burning. Toward the ashes and embers covering their ravaged and destroyed camp. As he bit back the pain of standing, Garrik thrust his sword into the mud, using it as an anchor to keep him steady.

Another step. Another inch. Another?—

The wall of flames.

It died as a smooth, reptilian voice crooned over the flames, “It would be wise to not fight this, Garrik. You know how this ends.”

The High Fae male from his nightmares. From his dungeon… He sauntered forward.

“Malik,” Garrik spit the name along with blood. Raising his sword, shadows stormed from his shoulders. “What is the meaning of?—”

With little effort, Malik flicked his wrist. Like a backhand, flames as dark as Malik’s blue eyes barreled into Garrik. Careening him twenty feet across the mud.

“Don’t insult my intelligence.” The scales of Malik’s jacket rippled as if a beast was coming to life but never fully manifested.

When Garrik pulled himself to his feet, something like wicked delight twisted the corners of his mouth. Especially as five Ravens fell into step behind Malik, creating a crescent shape like the pitiless watchdogs they were.

“You are going to need more than that,” Garrik taunted, flexing his hand and gathering shadows in his palm.

Before he spoke, Malik’s mouth turned cold, lethal. “Is that so?” The male needed nothing more than another flick of his wrist. Like waves returning to sea, Malik’s flames resigned to his command. That monstrous force swelled to the sky … then dissolved until not one ember ate away at the charred remains of camp.

Then Garrik saw it.

An army stretched to the horizon. That overwhelmed the perimeters of camp so terribly their silver armor looked like a liquefied ocean of steel. Hundreds of Ravens.Thousands.Too … too many.

“I thought you might say that,” Malik drawled.

Had the smoke not cleared, he may have ripped Malik’s head from his neck if only to rid the realm of the beast before he, too, called upon Firekeeper. But when the male side-stepped … and those blazing, gemstoned eyes met the abyss of his …

Alora.

There was a hand around her throat, a sword at the nape of her neck.

Terror ignited in her eyes. Her leg looked broken.

Thrashing, flanking her, amassed on their knees and bound in chains… His Dragons. Thalon.

“If I see a lick of shadow, they’re all dead,” Malik warned and paced a line between them. He scanned the prisoners, so slowly, before some sort of mild contentment swept over his features.

Garrik tracked the movement with lethal focus, snarling, “You should have nulled me. Because there isnothingstopping me from making good on my promise to you the last time we met.”

“Now, where would be the fun in that? I want to see your face, knowing you hold tremendous power yetyou”—Malik traced his gaze to his captives on their knees—“can donothing.” His attention snapped to Garrik when the sky cracked with crimson.

An ear-piercing shriek accompanied the lightning.

The sky gathered in a vortice of pitch-black. Parting the swirls, the half-skeletal raven head and inked dagger-like feathers of Nevilier appeared. Its talons flexed as that monstrous head swept side to side as if on a hunt.

But the raven Made for Magnelis was not searching for its kill.

Garrik realized the bird’s head was only thrashing because ropes coiled its beak. And controlling them … held by a demon on its back …

“Time to go home, High Prince. Your father expects you for dinner,” Malik said.

Garrik’s face paled.

That wretched, soullesssnakelanded and dismounted ahead of a battalion of Ravens.

Thalon roared so loudly Garrik thought his ears would bleed. A soldier’s pommel cracked into his jaw. His brother fell to the mud.

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