Page 20 of Magic Undaunted

Elyria shrugged, trying to keep her voice casual. “We’re in the Phantom Bayou. I’m trying to focus.”

Stryker’s lips twitched into a small smile. “I know you better than that, Elyria. You’ve been avoiding me… emotionally.”

She stiffened, heat rising in her cheeks. When had he become so touchy-feely and wanting to talk about emotions? “I’m not; I’m trying to keep us alive.”

Stryker didn’t push further, but his gaze lingered on her for a beat longer before he turned his attention back to the path ahead. Elyria let out a quiet breath. The strain between them still existed, a constant reminder of everything that still lay unresolved between them.

They continued in silence for a while longer, the bayou growing more ominous as they ventured deeper into it. The weight of the magic pressing down on them was almost suffocating, the trees whispering louder, their words more urgent. Lirael signaled for them to stop, her hand raised as she crouched by a patch of mangled roots.

“We’re close,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the eerie hum of the trees. “I can feel the wards protecting the entrance.”

Elyria’s pulse quickened as she stepped forward. She could sense the ancient magic woven into the air, powerful and dangerous. The library was hidden well—hidden for good reason.

“This is it,” Finnian murmured, his voice low as he stood beside her. “Hopefully the answers we need are in there.”

Elyria nodded, but her attention was drawn to Stryker. He stood just behind her, his expression unreadable, but his presence settled over her like a heavy cloak. She could feel the tension radiating from him, the unspoken connection between them thickening with every passing moment.

“We’ll find what we need,” Stryker said quietly, his voice low and steady. “And when we do, we’ll stop the mage… and whoever is backing him.”

Elyria’s breath caught in her throat as his words washed over her. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to trust that they could do this together. But the fear of vulnerability, of letting him in again, gnawed at her. And if she made the wrong choice, it wasn’t just her who would pay the price.

“You’re sure we can stop him?” she asked, her voice softer than she intended.

Stryker’s gaze softened, and he took a step closer, his hand hovering near hers as if he wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure if he should. “We’ve done the impossible before, haven’t we?”

A small, bitter laugh escaped her. “And look where that got us.”

His eyes darkened with something she couldn’t quite place. “I won’t let it end like that again, Elyria. Not this time.”

For a moment, the world around them seemed to fade, leaving only the two of them standing amidst the ancient magic of the bayou. The pull between them was undeniable, the memories of their shared past swirling in the air, heavy with both desire and regret.

Elyria swallowed hard, her pulse racing. “I want to believe you, Stryker. I really do.”

He stepped even closer, his body brushing against hers in the darkness, the heat of him sending a shiver through her. “Then let me prove it.”

Before she could respond, a sharp crack echoed through the bayou—the sound of ancient wards breaking. Lirael’s voice cut through the tension. “The entrance is open!”

Elyria jolted back into focus, pulling away from Stryker as the reality of their mission crashed back into place. She couldn’t afford to lose herself in him—not now, maybe not ever.

“Let’s move,” she ordered, her voice steady but her heart still racing.

The veil of invisibility fell away, revealing an ancient, moss-covered stairwell spiraling down deep into the earth. The air grew colder and heavier with magic as Elyria and her team descended into the depths of the hidden fae library. The soft glow of enchanted crystals lit their way, casting eerie shadows on the walls that seemed to shift and pulse with life. Elyria’s heart raced with every step, her senses on high alert.

As they began their descent into the hidden depths of the library, Elyria knew one thing for certain: the path ahead might be dangerous, but the one between her and Stryker was even more so. And with both, there was no turning back.

Beside her, he moved in silence, his presence both comforting and maddeningly distracting. He hadn’t spoken since their brief exchange at the entrance, but Elyria could feel the tension between them growing with every passing second. It was as if the magic of the library itself was amplifying everything—their emotions, their connection, the unresolved feelings that had simmered between them for so long.

But there was no time to dwell on that. They were here for answers to questions that had nothing to do with the two of them.

Ahead, Lirael led the way, her bow drawn, her sharp eyes scanning the gloom for threats. Finnian flanked her, his dual blades ready in his hands. They were nearing the heart of the library, the place where the most dangerous and powerful knowledge had been kept hidden for centuries.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, the narrow corridor opened up into a vast chamber, the ceiling so high it disappeared into the shadows. Shelves lined the walls, filled with ancient tomes and scrolls, their magic pulsing faintly in the air. But the room was far from abandoned.

Standing between them and their goal were a series of magical traps and guardians—figures of stone and metal, their eyes glowing with an eerie light, their forms still but charged with lethal energy.

Elyria’s breath caught as she surveyed the room. She could feel the raw power radiating from the traps, the intricate web of magic woven into the very fabric of the space. “We’ll need to be careful,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “These traps are old—ancient—and they’re designed to kill.”

Lirael nodded, her grip tightening on her bow. “What’s the plan?”

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