Page 187 of A Court of Thralls and Thorns

Zander’s voice cut through the smoke like a blade. “Get close!” he barked.

We huddled together, bodies pressed tightly around Jax, who still held Eilvin. Ferrula whispered something in Jax’s ear—I couldn’t hear it, but whatever she said made Jax’s face twist in grief. He released Eilvin, and stood up, his expression murderous.

The air shifted, growing thick and oppressive like the moments before a violent storm. My lungs tightened, the weight of something unnatural pressing down on my chest. The magical net enclosing us began to ripple, the woven threads of shimmering energy, flickering like dying embers. Sparks crackled at the edges, tiny bursts of light sputtering out of existence.

Then came the roar.

It wasn’t just a sound—it was a force, a primal surge that shook the ground beneath our feet and made my ribs vibrate. Dark Fire erupted from Zander’s outstretched hands in a wave of oily black flames, twisting and coiling like a living beast. The tendrils of fire struck the magical net, spreading across its surface in a fast-moving web of destruction. The net flared once,a final desperate pulse of magic, before it shriveled inward and disintegrated into curling ash.

But the Dark Fire didn’t stop.

It poured outward, hungry and relentless, spiraling along the ground in chaotic ribbons that slithered like serpents. Flames licked at the trees, turning bark to charred black and branches to brittle skeletons. The grass ignited in a chain reaction, smoke rising in suffocating waves. The air shimmered with heat, turning everything hazy and distorted.

Three Blood Fae were too slow to retreat. The flames coiled around them like living ropes, curling up their legs and along their arms. The air filled with their shrieks—high-pitched and otherworldly—as the fire consumed them from the inside out. Their skin blackened and peeled, magic unraveling from their bodies in jagged pulses of crimson energy before they collapsed into heaps of scorched bone and ash.

Their dragons fell next—bodies twisting and convulsing, their dying wails almost as haunting as their riders’. The scaled bodies hit the ground like boulders, wings twisted at unnatural angles, and smoke rising from their lifeless forms.

The remaining Blood Fae froze, wide-eyed and stunned by the carnage. Then, as if some unspoken command passed between them, they turned and bolted for the trees. Their surviving dragons stumbled to follow, some limping and dragging torn wings behind them.

The fire snarled, curling and snapping at their heels, but Zander finally relented. The flames recoiled like a predator satisfied with its kill, slithering back toward him before flickering out entirely. Only smoke and scorched earth remained.

The stench of burning hair and charred flesh clung to my throat. The ground was blackened and cracked, a barren patch of earth where life had once thrived.

I turned to Zander, finding him swaying on his feet, his face ashen and slick with sweat. His eyes still glowed, flickering onyx flames swirling in his irises. The power still lingered inside him, restless and volatile.

I let out a shaky breath, my muscles trembling from the residual heat. The air shimmered with the lingering power Zander had summoned—and it wasn’t fading quickly.

“Everybody knows you have Dark Fire,” Teren said, voice tight with disbelief, “but you shouldn’t be that powerful this early in your magical career.”

Zander turned slowly, his eyes still blazing with onyx flames. His face was sharp, carved with tension and power that felt barely contained. “You will not report anything you’ve seen here today regarding my power.”

Teren’s usual smug grin faltered, and his gaze flicked to the scorched ground where the Blood Fae had died. “Understood.”

Zander’s flames dimmed, his eyes returning to their usual sharp lavender. He swayed on his feet, and I reached out to steady him, feeling the heat still radiating from his skin.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, though his voice was hoarse.

“You’re not,” I said quietly. “But thanks for saving us.”

His hand brushed over mine—not firm, but deliberate. He didn’t speak, but for a moment, his fingers lingered on mine like he wasn’t quite ready to let go.

The air still smelled like smoke, and the scorched ground beneath us radiated heat. The only sounds were the quiet murmurs of our dragons shifting restlessly and the low, distant roar of waves crashing against the rocky coastline. The tension between our squads was palpable—no one was quite sure what to say after what had just unfolded.

“This was a godsdamn trap,” Teren muttered, breaking the silence. He stood with his arms crossed, glaring at the burntremains of the Blood Fae. “I just don’t get it—why send prospects on this mission in the first place?”

Zander sighed heavily, dragging a hand down his face. His fingers trembled slightly, and I wondered just how much that display of Dark Fire had drained him.

“I had that same argument,” Zander admitted. “I told Major Kaler prospects had no business responding to a threat like this. He told me this was just supposed to be a simple recon mission—no real threat.”

Teren snorted. “Yeah, simple recon.” He gestured to the smoldering battlefield. “Looks like that panned out perfectly.”

“So why are you here?” Teren added, his gaze narrowing on Zander. “You’re a Crownwatch royal. You could have your pick of commands. What the hell are you doing playing babysitter?”

Zander’s eyes flicked toward Kaelith, who stood several feet away, her eyes narrowed as she watched Makor shift uneasily beneath Eilvin’s weight. His pause stretched long enough that everyone else seemed to notice the connection.

I stepped forward, answering for him. “He’s here because Kaelith’s the Sentinel.”

Zander’s sharp gaze met mine, and for a moment I worried I’d said too much. But he didn’t argue.