Fires of Treason - Erin O'Kane

About the Author

The world has gone crazy since I first started writing this book, and now everything is very uncertain. If you can find some escape in my story, then I feel I’ve done my job properly. I hope, wherever you are, that you and your families are safe and well.

This one if for my husband and my family. The last couple of months have been really tough, but they were there throughout.

And, of course, to all the key workers around the world who have kept us all going.

Xoxo

Erin

“What do you need me to do?”

I stare at the elf before me in stunned silence, surprised he’s agreeing to help me so easily. Did I expect him to say no? No, I knew he would help me, just not so readily. His feline eyes narrow slightly as he waits for a response, and I shake my head to get my thoughts in gear. He’s just agreed to work with his enemy, to the point that it’s delaying his own escape.

Our races are at war, and have been for over a millennium, so he has no reason to trust me, yet he is. Or, at least, enough to work with me until I have the strength to break the spell in his remaining magical cuff, which is binding him here.

“For now, I need you to act like nothing has changed,” I instruct, watching his face for any clue as to what he’s thinking. Like all elves, he has exquisite features. His dazzling green eyes almost glow in the flickering orange light from the forge. Long, silver hair cascades past his shoulders, held back from his face by a braided and secured with a leather tie. His delicately pointed ears poke through his hair, marking him for what he is.

He continues to watch me, his face giving nothing away. I run my eyes over his broad shoulders and down his arm to his wrists, where I frown at the cuffs that encase them.

“Do you think they’ll notice one of your cuffs doesn’t have magic in it anymore?”

He follows my gaze and lifts his wrist with the now plain stone manacle. The stone restraints don’t look like much, certainly not enough to keep an elf captive considering their supernatural strength, however, these cuffs have magical symbols carved into them, and it’s those symbols that keep him here. Not only that, but they force him to create elven weaponry to be used against his own kind. When I managed to somehow remove the spell from one of the cuffs, those symbols disappeared.

“I don’t think so.” His accented voice rolls over me, and I have to fight the urge to move closer to him, that strange pull between us making itself known again. I know he feels it too, as his eyes jump up to mine, but I push it down and reach out to touch the cuff.

He moves as if to pull away, instinctively reacting to the thought of my touch, but stops himself when he realises what he’s doing. Raising my eyes to his, I wait, my fingers hovering above his skin. For what, I’m not sure, but when he inclines his head, I reach out again. Touching the stone, I run my fingers over the unblemished surface of the now magicless cuff. It looks like it’s been made out of one piece and is completely seamless. My brow furrows as I wonder how they managed to get it on before I shake my head as I think of the obvious answer—magic. Glancing over at the cuff that still contains magic, I see the symbols glowing softly.

I look up from his wrists and almost jolt back when I realise how close he is. He’s wearing a strange expression, one I can’t quite work out. It’s almost like he’s in pain. “Is it hurting you?”

There’s a pause before he shakes his head and leans back slightly, putting more space between us. We’re still kneeling on the cold stone floor, but I don’t care, and he doesn’t seem to either as we stare at each other.

“Not really,” he finally murmurs. “It stings a bit. It’s trying to force me to keep working, but now that the other one doesn’t work, it’s not as strong. I can resist it.” There is a slight note of awe in his voice as he comes to terms with what’s happened.

I managed to break the magical spell in his restraint that had been keeping him here for over a century. I have

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