Page 31 of His Darkest Devotion

She snorts, crossing her arms. “Civilized? A Dark Elf enforcer preaching civility. Amusing.” Her gaze flits to my bandaged side. “Wounded, are we? Let me guess: Elira did that?”

Anger flushes my chest. “We encountered monstrous creatures in a Wildspont. That’s enough detail.”

“Mm.” She gestures for the others to remain alert. Then she steps closer, eyeing me with a predatory glint. “We know you want Elira as badly as we do. The difference is, you serve that vile Overlord. We serve a grander cause.”

I arch a brow. “Grander cause? You mean overthrowing your own coven? Or toppling the Dark Elf kingdoms? Rumors vary.”

A smirk tugs at her lips. “Our vision is broader. The Purna hide in the mountains, cowering from your kind. We say enough. We’ll harness Elira’s power for ourselves, eradicate your Overlord’s rule, and reshape Protheka. We only need her power to unify the purnas.” Her eyes flash with fervor. “We can’t let her vanish with that potential.”

I keep my tone neutral. “And you think I’ll hand her over to you? That’s naive, even for a fanatic.”

She bristles, flicking a hand. “Spare me your insults. We know you lost her. She’s elusive, yes, but we have… ways of drawing her out. We merely offer you a chance to stand on the winning side. If we capture her, your Overlord can’t blame you for failing, can he? You’ll have delivered Elira, albeit indirectly.”

I suppress a grimace. My mind conjures an image of Elira trapped under Nerissa’s magic, possibly forced to wage war on both Dark Elves and her own coven. The thought churns my stomach. “Tell me your plan,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “I can’t commit to anything blindly.”

Nerissa’s eyes gleam with satisfaction. She inclines her head, beckoning me to follow her among the trees. We move between rows of pear trees drooping with blossoms, the Red Purnas fanning out to form a loose perimeter. The orchard’s sweet scent clashes with the tension crackling in the air.

As we walk, Nerissa speaks in a low voice. “We know that Elira once belonged to a certain coven in Prazh. That coven is fractured right now, thanks to our efforts. The Matriarch can’t protect Elira indefinitely. If we force her to return—perhaps by endangering innocents or by controlling her former allies—she’ll appear.”

A chill slithers down my spine. “You plan to use innocents as bait?”

Her shrug is dismissive. “They’re lesser Purnas, loyal to a dying ideal. If we threaten them, Elira’s conscience will drive her out of hiding. She’s soft, from what I hear. Then we’ll strike. Swift, unstoppable. She won’t escape this time.”

I grind my teeth. The callous disregard for her own kind is galling. “And how exactly do you expect me to help?”

She stops, turning to face me with a cunning smile. “Simple. You bring Dark Elf muscle. We can’t defeat the entire coven alone. But if you lure them into thinking your Overlord’s forces are seizing them, we’ll swoop in from another angle. Elira won’t know where to turn. Once we have her pinned, your part is done. We’ll figure out the rest.”

The orchard rustles around us, a hush that feels unnaturally thick. My thoughts churn.This plan is monstrous.I imagine entire covens attacked from two sides, purnas scapegoated, humans caught in the crossfire. And Elira—she’d stand no chance. My chest constricts. I used to take pride in orchestrating cunning strategies, but now revulsion roils in me.

I force a neutral expression. “It’s an interesting scheme.”

Nerissa’s brow arches, waiting for a real answer. I sense the other Red Purnas shifting closer, suspecting duplicity. If I balk too obviously, they might lash out. My gut warns me to proceed carefully.

I clear my throat. “I’ll need time to coordinate with the Overlord’s foot soldiers. We must ensure our approach remains secret. If Elira suspects a trap, she’ll vanish again.”

Nerissa studies me, lips pursed. “Time is one thing we can’t waste. She grows stronger each day. The prophecy says she could seal or unleash the gargoyles.” Her voice drips with disgust. “We refuse to let her squander that power. We’ll harness it, shape it to tear down the old ways.”

I swallow. My heart hammers with conflicting impulses. “Give me two days. I can gather a discreet squad of Miou soldiers, men loyal to the Overlord, who won’t question my orders. Then we’ll meet again.”

She narrows her eyes, suspecting half-truths. “You’d better not toy with us, Vaelin. We know how to punish traitors.” Her power crackles in the air, a faint red shimmer weaving around her fingers. “Where should we meet?”

I pretend to ponder, ignoring the chill down my spine. “There’s a hillside west of the Reyston River, overshadowed by a large oak with lightning-scorched bark. We can gather there, finalizing details on how to corner Elira’s coven.”

Nerissa’s lips curl. “Fine. Two days. Don’t be late.”

She turns, striding back toward her fellow purnas. They eye me with disdain, making no secret of their willingness to burn me alive if I cross them. I mount my zalkir again, chest tight, and ride out of the orchard without looking back. My instincts prickle, convinced they’ll watch my every move.

Once I’m certain I’m far enough from their vantage, I release a pent-up breath. The orchard’s sweet fragrance lingers on my clothes, clashing with the bitter taste in my mouth.They want a trap. I told them I’d comply.But in truth, I can’t bring myself to orchestrate such cruelty, especially not after what I shared with Elira.

I head north, unsure where to go. The Overlord expects results, the Red Purnas demand collusion, and my conscience demands a third path. Perhaps I can warn Elira somehow. But how would I find her again? She vanished into the wilds. My shoulder tenses, recalling her desperate eyes, the press of her body against mine, the jolt of recognition that turned everything I believed upside down.

Lost in thought, I nearly miss the small caravan traveling the adjacent road. Their wagons creak with wear, pulled by mules. I slow the zalkir, eying them warily. A group of humans escorting battered carts, presumably merchants. They spot me, expressions twisting with dread. I raise a hand—an attempt at a nonthreatening gesture. They hesitate but keep moving forward.

As our paths intersect, one of the humans, a woman with sun-worn skin and tattered clothing, steps aside, clearly afraid. Another older man tries to quell her panic by whispering reassurances. Guilt gnaws at me.We’re not all monsters,I want to say. But they have every reason to fear a Dark Elf enforcer.

“Have you encountered any purnas on the road?” I ask, voice calm. “Red robes, perhaps?”

They exchange uneasy glances. The older man steps forward, trembling. “We saw some red-clad purnas near the orchard. Heard rumors they attacked a small farmstead upriver. Terrible things… The place was left in flames.” He swallows hard, gaze flicking to my sword. “We… we didn’t linger.”

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