Page 108 of All the Chaos of Constellations
Well, at least he would die with a full audience in attendance.
The queen strode out from around Drake, stepping forward. At once, faerie fire illuminated the courtyard, burning from lanterns so brightly it could’ve been mistaken for dawn.
“Lord Firebane.” Queen Elowyn clasped her hands together, regal and assertive, her voice carrying through the night for all to hear. “You’re aware of the consequences for interfering with a wedding, are you not?”
Slowly, Asher lowered Novalise to the ground. Her small hands curled into fists, clutching at his shirt. “I am.”
“Ash,” Novalise pleaded, her voice a whisper meant solely for him. “Don’t do this.”
“I won’t let him take you.” Asher took her hands, pressing a kiss to each of her knuckles. “Not now, not ever.”
“I really don’t understand why you’re making this such a big deal, Firebane.” Drake shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants and the shadows surrounding him expanded. “It’s not as though Novalise is all…sunshine and rainbows.”
Drake grinned but it was forced, edgier than usual.
Asher strode forward, ready to defend his mate. “Do not compare her to sunshine and rainbows when she is so clearly moonlight and stardust.”
“Very well.” Drake vanished from the doorway of the palace, engulfed by a swath of his own darkness. Shadows swirled, never touching the light, disappearing completely. Eerie stillness settled over the crowd of guests and nobility, the unexpected realization of Drake’s power dawning upon them with stark clarity, as though they suddenly remembered they were in the presence of the Shadowblade Assassin. A moment later, the air shifted, and Drake reappeared, standing behind Asher. He removed his coat and leather gloves, tossing them to the ground, then readied his stance. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”
Asher glanced over at Novalise, nodding once. Her face was pallid, as though the rose of her cheeks had been siphoned from within her. Fear stole through her, heightened by cold dread, the well of it funneling into him. She shuffled back, her bare feet padding lightly across the stone of the courtyard. Solarius stepped up beside her, his expression grave, and draped a protective arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.
Asher bowed before the shadow prince, and Drake returned the gesture.
Then Asher attacked.
Magic swelled and crackled in the air, the dense scent of sandalwood and amber permeating the space between them. Bolts of frostfire erupted from the tips of his fingers, a streak of silver and midnight aiming straight for Drake’s heart. The shadow prince lifted one hand, capturing the frozen flames in the center of his palm. A crackling noise echoed in Asher’s ears, the sound of splintering glass. The flames morphed in Drake’s hold, solidifying into shards, each one with a honed and carefully crafted edge.
Drake drew his hand back, then his arm shot forward, sending the fragments of frostfire raining down upon Asher like a dozen sharpened swords.
He dove, rolling across the stone ground to dodge the assault.
They shattered around him, the blade of one slicing across his cheek, like ice serrating his skin. Something warm and sticky slid down the left side of his face, the metallic smell of his blood tainting each breath.
Piercing cries of panic melded with the hasty shuffle of footfalls from those who’d gathered to watch. But Asher had no time to make sure none of the innocent bystanders were injured. He had to focus on staying alive. For Novalise.
For himself.
Popping back up on his feet, he crouched low, hurtling a blaze of blackened flames toward Drake. Asher’s magic struck the ground first, igniting around the shadow prince, encasing him in a ring of fire. They rose higher, licking the sky, spitting and expanding until the shadow prince was no longer visible behind the infernal wall. Anyone else would’ve feared for their life. Anyone else would’ve screamed as the flames melted their clothing, as the stench of burnt hair and charred flesh clogged their lungs.
But not Drake.
He walked right through it, smothering the magic, extinguishing it until all that remained was scorched stone and ash.
The bastard laughed, cold and cunning. “Is that all you’ve got, Firebane?”
Asher had no warning before Drake’s fist collided with the side of his face, the crunching of flesh and bone sending his head spinning. His mouth filled hot with blood and he spat, blinking rapidly to recover his vision.
“What the fuck, Kalstrand?” Asher growled. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. His skin came away smeared with crimson, the swelling ache already causing his head to throb.
“Magic is for the weak,” Drake taunted, circling him in a predatory stance.
He drew back, preparing to land another blow, but Asher anticipated the move and dodged it. Cutting his fist through the air, his knuckles slammed into the underside of Drake’s jaw. His head snapped back, drops of scarlet splattering across the front of his black shirt.
This time, it was Asher who smiled. “You forgot one thing, shadow prince.”
Drake sneered, his teeth stained red from the blood. “What’s that, frostfire fae?”
“I’m an excellent fighter.” He’d had years of practice…against his father.
