Page 46 of Crown of Storm and Silence
I can see his fangs gleaming in the moonlight as he savors her scent, and there's something obscene about the way Banu's bodybegins to respond to his proximity—arching toward him instead of away, her breathing becoming deeper, more languid.
My shadows explode outward, attempting to crack through the Obur's protective magic, but the bastard is strong, and I’m weakened by the poison that drains my system. "Release the fairy, Mikail, or I'll turn you into a decorative wind chime made of your own bones."
Emir's shadows around him are no longer coiling—they're writhing like living things hungry for blood.
I have to bite back a laugh at the possessive fury radiating from my usually controlled general. The man who once negotiated a peace treaty while completely ignoring a dagger pressed to his throat is about to lose his composure over a fairy he's known for months.
"She smells divine," Mikail observes with delighted malice, "and I bet she tastes even better." His fangs extend as he presses closer to Banu's neck. Under his glamour, she tilts her head to give him better access, a soft moan escaping her lips that makes Emir's shadows explode outward in violent torrents.
That's when Emir attacks again, this time his darkness is not filled with his usual control, but with something more raw and primal. His shadows crack through Obur’s magical protection instantly, surging forward like a living tsunami, wrapping around Mikail's throat and wrists, tearing him away from Banu with enough violence to send Obur flying backward into a pile of fallen logs.
The impact is tremendous. Wood splinters, the oak groans, and Mikail's perfect form carves a destructive path through the grove as Emir's shadows pursue him relentlessly. When he finally lands in a heap of broken branches and scattered leaves, there's blood streaming from his mouth, and his pristine appearance is thoroughly ruined.
The moment Mikail hits the ground, his glamour shatters like glass. Banu staggers against the tree trunk, blinking rapidly as awareness floods back into her lavender eyes. The dreamy compliance is gone, replaced by her usual fiery indignation mixed with something that might be embarrassment.
"The next words out of your mouth will be your last," Emir says with the kind of deadly calm learned in killing fields. "Choose them carefully."
The deadly calm in Emir's voice sends a chill down my spine. I've heard that tone before—right before he's killed someone who threatened what he protects. Mikail had better choose his next words very carefully.
But Mikail doesn't stay down. He rises from the debris with disturbing grace, his torn coat and disheveled hair somehow making him look more dangerous rather than less.
I step forward, darkness rippling outward from where I stand, ready to finish what Emir started if the bastard so much as twitches wrong. But when Mikail speaks, his voice carries amusement alongside the pain.
"Does the shepherd know his flock bleats sweetest when the wolf circles close?" he says, wiping blood from his mouth with delicate fingers. "How delicious. The fairy now understands what manner of beast guards her nest."
The words make Emir's shadows writhe with additional fury, but they also make Banu go very still against the tree trunk. I catch a glimpse of her face—wide lavender eyes fixed on my general with something that looks suspiciously like wonder mixed with her usual combative spirit and what might be gratitude for breaking her free of that unnatural trance.
But before the moment can develop any further, Banu shakes off the lingering effects of the glamour and immediately rounds on me with predictable indignation.
"You!" she shrieks, spinning toward me with tiny fists raised and magic crackling around her in angry sparks. "This is your fault! Your creepy mind-controlling associate nearly turned me into a willing midnight snack because of whatever twisted history you two share!"
Her fairy magic strikes me with concentrated outrage—apparently deciding I'm somehow responsible for bringing dangerous associates around. It doesn't hurt, exactly, but it does make every shadow under my command start giggling in a way that's disturbing on multiple levels.
"Well," I say with deliberate mildness, "technically, you seemed to be enjoying yourself there for a moment. Very cooperative. Almost…enthusiastic.”
"ENTHUSIASTIC?!" Banu shrieks, her voice reaching a pitch that makes nearby birds evacuate the area. "You absolute bastard! Oh, that's rich coming from the walking nightmare who probably taught him half his creepy tricks! What's next, are you going to suggest I asked for it because I have pretty hair?!"
"At least you would have died with dignity intact instead of screaming about party streamers and poison ivy planters. Very regal final moments, really."
The air around Mikail begins to distort, and I can smell sulfur mixing with the scent of old blood that always clings to his kind. He's preparing to retaliate, to make this personal in ways that will leave permanent scars.
But I've had enough of this philosophical violence interrupting what should have been a peaceful evening.
“Don’t even think about this Mikail!"
The word erupts from me with enough power to make trees groan and send every nocturnal creature within a mile fleeing for safer territories. Both combatants freeze, caught in the supernatural authority I rarely bother to unleash. The very air thickens with the weight of my displeasure.
Even Banu stops mid-assault, her fairy magic sputtering out as she takes an involuntary step backward. For the first time since I've known her, she looks genuinely wary instead of just combative.
"Mikail," I say pleasantly, stepping into the clearing with shadows pouring from my skin in dark streams, "how delightful to see you again. Still speaking in riddles and molesting my people, I see."
"Kaan," he replies, straightening his torn coat with affected dignity that's somewhat undermined by the leaves in his hair.
"Emir," I continue without taking my eyes off the Obur, "take Banu back to the cottage. Have the men establish a wider perimeter around the village. I need to have words with our uninvited guest."
My general looks reluctant to leave, his protective instincts clearly screaming at him not to abandon the fairy who apparently means more to him than he's admitted. But centuries of discipline win out over personal desire.
"Come," he says to Banu, extending his hand with surprising gentleness after his display of protective brutality. "This conversation isn't finished," he adds to Mikail with deadly promise.
