Page 50 of A Trial of the Heart

A stray wisp of cold air brushed against the nape of my neck, sending me a silent message of comfort that stirred the sleeping animal spirit inside my chest. His ice igniting liquid fire throughout my veins.

Daxton, the Silver Shadow, High Prince of Silver Meadows, the prince who was promised, followed close behind. His footsteps echoing in perfect sync with my own.

I could sense a connection forming between us that I hadn’t noticed before. I was keenly alert to Daxton’s every movement, almost sensing him on an instinctual level. I was beyond denying my affection. From the moment I decided to kiss Daxton on the ship, I knew I cared for him.

Daxton insisted, ruse or not, that he was accompanying me as I entered the first trial of the Heart of Valdor.

“This isn’t a good idea,” Castor protested.

“I’m walking with her,” Daxton said. “I’m not asking your opinion on this. I’m telling you.”

And that was that.

I led our group, with the others in step behind me. Castor descended with a disgruntled march alongside Daxton. Adohan and Idris followed, walking hand in hand, supporting me with a confident silence as we made our way to the labyrinth’s entrance.

The Crimson City couple emerged from their room at the same time we left ours. Adohan was shaky, but he could stand on his own feet without much trouble. Idris was steady by his side.

The fae lights gathered along the ceiling as the stone steps came to an end. I swallowed a gulp of fear as I shut my eyes and clenched my teeth so hard I thought that they would crack.

One hundred and thirty-six.

That’s how many steps I had to take to see the light of day again—to feel the fresh, clean air cleanse my lungs and my restless soul once I was victorious. It was not a number I would likely forget.

As we reached the end of our descent into darkness, I moved aside, letting the others pass through the stone-arched entrance to an open foyer leading to yet another underground tunnel. I placed my hands on rough gray rocks, pressing my forehead against the stone, trying to steady my quivering limbs.

“Breathe.” Strong hands rubbed my shoulders and back. “You’re not in the hunter’s lair. You’re not alone… Remember, you won’t ever be.” Daxton moved closer to me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and turning me toward his chest. “You’re stronger than your fears, Spitfire. You’re the towering mountain that never bends and never breaks against the strength of the fiercest winds.” His lips dared a soft brush of a kiss on the crown of my head as I encircled my arms around his middle. “I’ve got you, Skylar Cathal.” Daxton took a deep, steadying breath and I followed his lead, absorbing his courage and molding it into my own. I could feel his magic building, mine rising to the surface in response. “I will find you.”

“We will always find each other,” I whispered, burying my head into the nook of his collarbone near the base of his neck.

Those were the words Daxton told me in my dreams when I was tortured and dying underground in the cell of the hunter’s lair. I still don’t know how he managed to send me those messages, but I didn’t dare question them. Instead, I decided to succumb to the magic they somehow possessed.

“Dax,” Castor warned in a hushed tone. “We’re not alone.”

I felt Daxton tense, yet he didn’t release his hold on me. I was thankful for this because, without his strength, I wasn’t sure I would be able to stand on my own just yet.

I lifted my gaze to the entrance of the tunnel to see a dark-haired High Fae staring at us from across the way.He was a silent threat. I knew all too well that the power of the mind was never something to overlook.

“What are you doing here?” My words were meant to have more bite to them than they did, and I cursed my shaking nerves for their obvious hold over me.

The male casually leaned against the wall and crossed his arms along his chest. His fitted forest-green tunic with gold embellishment shimmered against the fae lights of the underground passageway. “Would you expect me to be anywhere else?”

“Rhett.” Daxton said the fae’s name, but his cunning deep-set blue eyes remained locked on me. “You should already be with the queen.”

“And shouldn’t the shifter be finding comfort in the arms of your brother?” Rhett countered as he cocked his head to the side, his elegant, alluring features still unreadable behind a mask of porcelain.

Shit. Well, there goes the ploy of our little ruse.

“Don’t even attempt to concoct a rebuttal, Castor.” Rhett held up his hand, finally turning his gaze to Daxton. “I’m not a fool, and I can see well enough to infer what is here … even through the lack of daylight in this underground tomb.” Blue eyes darted across the distance to collide with gray steel.

A moment of stillness passed between Daxton and Rhett. I watched as they stared at each other, not in aggression or fear, but almost like they were sizing each other up—testing one another like predators dueling over territory or a fresh kill.

“How?” Daxton asked aloud.

“Besides the obvious?” Rhett replied, tilting his head up to assess the air around us. I wasn’t worried. I had my shield up, and I knew Daxton did as well.

“You see it,” Adohan said, addressing Rhett in a softer tone instead of one fit for a sworn subject of Aelius. The comprehension twinkling in his hazel eyes reminded me that Adohan was more than just a handsome face. “Because this isn’t foreign to you.” I had no idea what Adohan was referring to, but from the looks of it, Rhett sure as hell did.

“Stop,” Rhett said sharply.

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