Smolder (Crown of Fae #3) - Sharon Ashwood Page 0,6

and appalled her. Morran was the powerful lord of Tymeera and all the sacred treasure it held. The Phoenix Palace—his palace—was the heart and hearth of the fire fae. Dared she hope he was not utterly lost to Faery and its people?

Leena reached out with her magic, seeking to touch Morran’s spirit and find her answers. Instead, there was emptiness. She recoiled, losing her footing for a single beat. Something terrible had happened to the prince—something had ripped his soul apart.

Grief made her movements clumsy. Elodie covered her missteps, filling in until the dance swept Leena up once more. Tears stung her eyes, the fire drying them to salt before they fell. For a dizzying moment, she had hoped for salvation. She should have known better. Hope gave disappointment teeth.

A tug on the Flame brought Leena’s attention back to the high table. Morran wasn’t the only one on his feet now. Juradoc stood like a looming personification of Death.

To her astonishment, Death was eating. Nausea swept her like a tide of jellied rot.

Of course. She’d always wondered what Shades consumed. Now she knew—they ate the force of fae power itself. She’d seen them turn trees, animals, and even whole landscapes to ash, and this was how they did it—they sucked the life force dry.

The pull came again, as subtle as someone sipping from a glass. This was why Juradoc had wanted fire dancers—wanted her the moment he knew she was present. The dance summoned the mighty elemental force that had birthed the fire fae. Like a leech, the Shade was feeding on the Flame itself.

Furious, Leena lashed out with her magic, sending sparks flying in a shower of red and white. Juradoc jerked back as if stung. The Shade hadn’t expected resistance.

His drain on the fire’s energy left Leena lightheaded. As she moved, circling the floor once again, she narrowed the spell that fed magic to the dance, like pinching a hose. Juradoc fought back, struggling to take more, but Leena knew how to control the power. She spun, leaped, and swept the fire into a teasing dance, but she gave nothing away.

It was as dangerous as dangling meat before a tiger. Even Morran understood it, for she saw his eyes widen with apprehension. Leena leaned into the beat, swaying her hips as another rush of fire swept the circle. Darkness—Juradoc’s Shade magic—roamed the edges of her spell, but she denied it entry. He got nothing she didn’t give him.

She sank to one knee, suddenly short of breath from the effort. It wasn’t fatigue in the normal sense, but spirit deep. It was then she caught Morran’s gaze again. Without quite knowing how, she understood he’d seen her fight back. Like a man newly awakened, he regarded Leena afresh, frank admiration filling his expression. It was as if he saw the Flame inside her heart.

Perhaps there was something left of the Tymeeran lord after all.

Surging to her feet, Leena turned her back to the high table, facing Elodie. The two women mirrored each other in a complicated series of steps. Leena’s limbs tingled with fresh energy despite the fatigue deep in her bones. She cast Morran a glance over her shoulder, sending her hair flaring around her frame. Daring. Enticing. Morran’s regard was a second fire caressing her limbs.

And then, at a gesture from the Shade, Morran’s face went blank. He sank to his chair, his head in his hands. Disappointment made Leena break her stride. She reached out again, hoping to call him back.

Her magic hit a wall of ice. Behind it, she glimpsed the cavernous dark of madness. For the second time, she veered away. The devouring abyss inside Morran would consume her in an instant, given a chance.

Leena’s emotions had gone full circle. For an instant, Morran had sparked hope, but that was over. All that remained was to endure the performance and escape to safety.

Dread crawled through Leena, a living thing in her chest. She nearly missed Elodie’s cry of dismay—a sharp, brief yelp that split the air. Leena skidded to a stop the instant before Elodie crumpled.

3

“Elodie!” Leena cried.

Her friend sprawled, arms outflung and legs folded at an awkward angle. Bright copper curls pooled on the floor like a crazy halo. Leena stared, fear punching through her as the circle of Flame dimmed.

Leena had been able to resist the Shade. Elodie had, too, but barely. The struggle had wrung her dry.

A female diner screamed. The sound was like a knife on Leena’s nerves, but it