Page 1 of Court of Lies and Deceit

CHAPTER ONE

Pain crackles through my body like a lightning bolt. I cry out, but it only makes me cough blood onto the smooth surface beneath me. My mind spins. I’m lying on my stomach on what feels like a wooden table. Blinking hard, I try to push myself up, but my arms are so weak that they tremble with exhaustion. And my legs don’t move at all. Another bolt of panic shoots through me.

“Careful!” Draven snaps from somewhere close to me. His voice is a vicious growl, brimming with threats and violence. “If you hurt her more, I will rip your fucking arms off.”

“I’m sorry,” a man stammers. “But I had to remove the shard quickly.”

Blinking repeatedly, I try to get my eyes to focus on the room around me. But it’s incredibly difficult because there is a sharp coldness in my back where the shard used to be. It’s so intensely cold that it feels like it’s burning me from the inside. And worst of all, I can feel it slowly spreading.

I gasp out a breath, and blood trickles down from the corner of my mouth where I’m lying with my cheek pressed to the cool wooden table. My hands are resting on either side of my head. Isqueeze my fingers into fists and use every ounce of willpower I possess to force my eyes into focus.

My vision is still foggy, as if there is mist floating at the edges of it, and the room around me sways slightly, but I finally manage to take in my surroundings.

I’m in a room lit by bright faelights. The wall that I can see is completely covered by dark wooden bookcases. Vials and bottles in all shapes and colors line the shelves, and various blades and tools gleam next to them. I appear to be lying on a table in the middle of the room, and there is a man standing next to me. But because he is bent over my back, I can’t see his face.

Pain shoots through me again. But just like last time, I can only feel it in my upper body. A wave of terror rises up inside me, threatening to drown me in its dark depths.

Then a pair of beautiful golden eyes appear right in front of me.

“Selena,” Draven says.

And his voice is so heartbreakingly tender that tears well up in my eyes.

Agony floods his face. Crouched down next to the table beside me, he reaches out and gently strokes my cheek. His soft fingers carefully remove a few strands of my hair that had gotten stuck in the half-dried blood on my chin. Draven swallows hard and then rests his hand very lightly on my cheek.

“You’re going to be okay,” he promises. “Everything is going to be okay.”

But given the fear in his eyes, I don’t know who he is trying to assure most. Me or himself.

I open my mouth to respond, but only a whimper makes it out. That burning coldness in my back is making it hard to concentrate on anything else.

“Oh no,” the man who is bent over me suddenly says. The dread in his voice makes my hair stand on end.

For a moment, terror flashes across Draven’s face as well before he manages to hide it. With a mask of confidence on his features, he leans forward and kisses my forehead before resolutely declaring, “You’re going to be okay.”

Then he stands up and turns to face the man who was bent over me. He has also straightened, and now that he isn’t standing so close, I can see that he is a dragon shifter. His brown hair is disheveled, and his green eyes are nervous as he meets Draven’s gaze.

“What is it?” another voice demands from somewhere behind me. It takes me a second to realize that it’s Draven’s best friend Galen. “She will walk again, right?”

A hollow pit opens up in my stomach, and panic washes over me like a cold wave when the stranger doesn’t immediately reply. Instead, his green eyes flit nervously between Draven and where I’m assuming that Galen is standing on the other side of the table.

“Her spine was severed,” he finally replies, very carefully.

Which sounds an awful lot like ano.

That gaping pit inside me widens, threatening to swallow me whole.

“But that’s not your biggest problem,” the man continues before anyone can reply. His worried eyes settle on Draven. “The shard that struck her was ice fire from the Silver Clan.”

All blood drains from Draven’s face.

The sight of it rips the air from my lungs and sends a whip of fear through my chest.

“What does that mean?” someone else demands from the corner of the room.

Tilting my chin up slightly, I find two people standing there who I missed on my first inspection of the room. Alistair’s orange and green eyes are locked on the stranger as he waits for him to answer his question. But Isera’s gaze is locked on me. Herlong black hair is windswept, but her silver and blue eyes are as cool and steady as ice as she watches me. There is an expression on her face that I can’t read.

That burning coldness in my back creeps slowly outwards. I gasp as the searing pain makes my head spin yet again.

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