Page 4 of Magic Undaunted

A faint movement caught his eye. He straightened, body taut, ready for a fight. But it wasn’t an enemy that emerged from the shadows.

It was Elyria.

Her silver-pink hair caught the faintest glimmer of the moonlight as she stepped into the clearing, her eyes locking onto his with a spark of recognition—and something else. A tension that vibrated between them, electric and undeniable. She wore her battle leathers, the dark material hugging every curve of her voluptuous body, her wings folded tightly behind her. Her grip on her own sword was firm, but her gaze flickered with that same intensity from years ago.

"Stryker," she said, her voice a low, sultry rasp that sent a shiver down his spine.

He hadn’t seen her since she had been banished, but here she was, standing in the heart of the bayou, just outside of the fae realm as if she still belonged and had never left.

"What are you doing here?" he growled, stepping closer, his pulse quickening as her scent—wild and dangerous—washed over him. "You know you’re not supposed to be anywhere near Celestia."

Elyria raised an eyebrow, her lips curving in that half-smile that always got under his skin. "When they banished me, theylost the right to command me to do anything. I no longer answer to the High Council. I suppose I could ask you the same thing—what are you doing here?"

"I’m patrolling the borders," he shot back, but his words felt hollow, because the real question—why was she here?—burned between them. "You’re risking everything."

She shrugged, her movements fluid, almost feline. "I’m risking nothing. The fae have washed their hands of me and my tainted blood. Why would any of you care where I go?" Her voice was casual, but he could hear the undercurrent of bitterness.

He chose to ignore the jab and clenched his jaw, resisting the pull she had always had on him. "This isn’t a game, Elyria.”

“I never thought it was. In case you missed it, there’s dark magic out here, just beyond Celestia’s borders.”

“Agreed—something I haven’t seen before." His gaze dropped to the ground where the traces of death still lingered. "Something dangerous."

Her eyes flicked to the same spot, her expression hardening. "I know. That’s why I’m here."

His fist tightened around his blade. The air between them thrummed with more than just danger. The years apart hadn’t dulled the tension—they’d only sharpened it. He wanted to grab her, pull her against him, and demand to know why she was risking her life, why she was still in his head after all this time.

Elyria stepped closer, the space between them becoming impossibly small. Her breath brushed against his cheek, her scent wrapping around him like a fog, clinging to him and invading his senses.

"Still playing the hero, Stryker?" she murmured, her voice dripping with something dangerously passionate—a mixture of desire and rage.

His eyes locked onto hers, arousal surging through his system. "You’re one to talk. You always had a knack for getting into trouble."

Her lips curved again, this time into a seductive smile he remembered all too well. "Me? Trouble?” she snorted.

Stryker swallowed hard. The proximity of her body, the way her eyes burned into him—everything was too much, too fast. They were standing on the edge of something dark and dangerous, yet the pull between them was stronger than the storm brewing around them. He could see it in her eyes too, that unspoken heat simmering just beneath the surface.

But there was no time for it.

Not here. Not now.

Stryker tore his gaze away from her, forcing himself to focus. "We need to move. Whatever left this magic is still out there, and I don’t intend to let it get any closer to the heart of Celestia."

Elyria’s smirk faded, replaced by a cool, professional mask. "That’s your agenda, not mine. I couldn’t care less what happens to those corrupt bastards."

She stepped aside, indicating he should go. The heat between them simmered, unspoken but impossible to ignore. As he pushed past her, he could feel the pull of the past sucking at him like swamp mud to boots, and for the first time in years, Stryker wasn’t sure if he wanted to turn his back on it.

After a search that had yielded nothing, Stryker returned to the capitol, stalking through the grand halls of the council chambers—the crystalline walls shimmering with ethereal light. Every step felt heavy, not just from the weight of his report but the tension that still coiled tight inhis gut after encountering Elyria. His body hummed with the memory of her—her scent, her voice, the fire in her eyes that had never dimmed, even after all these years. She was still the same: fierce, unpredictable, and utterly irresistible. And it seemed she had returned and didn’t much care who knew about it.

He didn’t have time to dwell on the pull she had on him. Lord Oberon awaited his report, and the situation at the borders couldn’t be ignored.

As he entered the grand chamber, Stryker straightened his shoulders, pushing thoughts of Elyria aside. Lord Oberon sat upon his silver throne, regal and untouchable, his crown of glowing flames casting a flickering light across his cold, golden eyes. The other council members were absent—this was a private audience, though the weight of the Council's authority could be felt pressing in from every shimmering wall.

“Stryker,” Oberon greeted coolly, his voice like ice on the wind. “What news do you bring from the border?”

Stryker gave a sharp nod of acknowledgment before stepping forward. “There’s dark magic spreading along the edges of Celestia. I encountered a group of lesser fae fleeing in terror. They described something... unnatural, something powerful. I investigated, and found the land itself is corrupted. This magic isn’t like anything I’ve ever seen. It feels older, more dangerous.”

Oberon’s expression remained impassive, though a slight narrowing of his eyes betrayed his interest. “Lesser fae,” he said dismissively, waving a hand as if brushing aside an annoying fly. “Their fear is often exaggerated. You know how they are—skittish, weak. I find it hard to believe they could distinguish between mere shadows and true danger.”

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