The patrol boat didn’t fall back. Worse, they must have had a weather worker of their own—because they were gaining.
“They never come this close to the shadows!” Nyra shouted, her words whipped away by her conjured wind.
But today they did—because an important prisoner had escaped, along with a bond belonging to one of the most powerful families in the New Dominion.
His heart pounded as the patrol boat closed in, cutting through the waves with brutal efficiency. He could see the shimmer of runes etched into the hull of their boat and the gleam of corrupted magic on their weapons.
If they caught them, they would drag him back to his cell. And Araya—they would take her back to Jaxon.
No—just the thought sent a bolt of raw, hot fury through him. He wouldn’t allow that to happen.
Loren reached out—not with his hand, but with his mind, brushing it across the darkness the way one might stroke a coiled serpent.Come, he urged it, inviting it forward.Strike.
For a moment, the void hesitated. A presence stirred against his awareness as something cold and ancient tilted its head, considering him.
Now!Loren demanded.
The darkness inhaled, Nyra’s wind dying with a whimper. The patrol boat was so close that Loren could see the terror on the soldiers’ faces as their own wind vanished, the water around them turning as smooth as glass. One stumbled back, scrambling to nock an iron-tipped arrow—but he never managed to raise his bow.
The shadows struckwith deadly precision, wood splintering as they slammed into the patrol boat with crushing force. Men shouted, scrambling to fight back—but the shadows had already breached the ship, slipping through cracks in the hull, weaving between armor and skin. The first soldier went down, his scream cut off as darkness wrapped around his throat and dragged him under. The second tried to run—a mistake—because the shadows came for him next, ripping him backward into the abyss.
Loren’s blood surged with the thrill of it—every scream, every kill feeding a power that felt far too right in his hands. In minutes, nothing was left of the patrol boat but wreckage. And then even that was gone, dragged beneath the surface by tendrils of inky blackness that reached out from the void.
“It’s over,” Nyra whispered, but her voice wavered and her grip on the wheel was too tight, her knuckles white. “Loren…you can call them off now.”
Loren’s brow furrowed, his fists clenching as he touched the shadows with his mind again.That’s enough,he ordered.
Something stirred in the dark—twisting, slithering along the edges of his mind, brushing his thoughts like cold, wet fingers. It peered back at him from the dark, mocking and unimpressed, its inky tendrils lingering on the water as it considered him.
He calls, a hundred voices hissed at once.He commands. He thinks we obey.
“I am the heir,” Loren snarled. “You answer to me.”
We did. Once,the voices acknowledged, a cackle of dark laughter rippling through their dark presence.And look what has become of us. We do not forget, shadow prince.
“Loren!”
Thorne’s sharp voice cut through the haze, dragging his gaze toward the cabin.
Araya stood in the doorway, clutching the frame for balance as the skiff rocked beneath her. Her silver eyes were wide, fixed on him with an expression that twisted something deep inside his chest. Her hands trembled where they gripped the doorframe, her lips parted as though she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.
“Araya—” Loren’s voice cracked, but she flinched, taking a step back as if he’d struck her.
Before he could say more, the air shifted.
Loren stiffened, his gaze snapping back to the shadows. The writhing mass stood unnervingly still, as if her presence had hypnotized them. Then, slowly, the tendrils began to move again—slidingacross the water’s surface, tasting the air as they curled closer. The temperature dropped, his breath fogging in the air as the void’s dark intent coiled around him like a noose.
They’d made their decision.
“Nyra,” Loren hissed, his voice tight. “Get us moving.”
Nyra turned to him, her face draining of color as the air tightened, thickened. She sucked in a sharp breath, staring at the approach darkness. “Loren…” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “What did you do?”
“Turn the boat!” Loren roared. “Move! Now! Get us out of here! They’re coming forus!”
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
