Page 94 of A Court of Wings and Shadows

Zander vanished entirely.

My breath caught.

The courier hesitated, but finding nothing, he continued on, his pace just slightly faster. He moved through the inner gates, past the east corridor, and out the main arch of the castle, descending into the stone courtyard that connected to the Ascension Grounds.

As soon as he cleared the last stair, we moved.

Fast. Silent.

We crossed the cobbled stones quickly and silently. Remy caught up first, his hand snapping around the man’s arm and jerking him to a stop.

The courier’s eyes widened. “What is the meaning of this?”

Remy’s expression shifted, cold, calm, dangerous.

“I’ll ask the questions now.” That tone, low and sharp, was the one I’d heard in the Order just before someone stopped breathing.

Remy pulled the courier to the corner of the courtyard where nobody could see us in the dark. He tightened his grip on the courier’s arm, his voice all frost and venom. “Who are you taking the correspondence to?”

The courier’s eyes darted between us, breath catching. “The king,” he said quickly. “Of course. I just—I have an errand first, a delivery?—”

Remy smiled then, but it didn’t reach his eyes. There was no warmth there, only the promise of pain.

“Sorry,” he said softly. “Couriers have to do theirprimaryerrand first. And in your case, that’s the king’s bidding.”

The courier shifted, the lie cracking in his throat. “It’s just a small delay—nothing important. A message to a steward. I’ll deliver the king’s letter immediately after, I swear.”

Remy’s expression didn’t change, but Zander stepped forward then, calm and terrifying in the way only royalty can be when they’ve lost their patience.

“Enough,” Zander said coldly.

He held out his hands, and Dark Fire erupted from his palms in a sweeping hiss of smoke and flame. The magic curled around his fingers like a living shadow, licking up his arms and illuminating the fury beneath his skin. But his clothes didn’t burn. Not even a thread caught fire.

The flames crept higher, spreading across his chest and shoulders until he was a silhouette of fire and death, standing barely a foot from the trembling man.

“You will answer my questions,” Zander growled, “or burn for eternity.”

The Dark Fire reached out, slow, deliberate, and close enough to sear the air near the courier’s face.

The man whimpered, knees shaking.

“I—I will tell you!” he gasped, his voice cracking.

Zander extinguished the fire.

He already had what he wanted.

The courier’s breath came in ragged bursts, his back pressed against the cold stone of the courtyard wall, eyes fixed on Zander’s arms. Where the Dark Flames had burned.

“I’m delivering the message to my handler,” he confessed, voice trembling. “My Blood Fae handler.”

Remy’s eyes narrowed into slits. “What do they want?”

The courier swallowed hard. “The same thing they’vealwayswanted.”

Remy took a step forward, his voice slicing like a blade. “Which is?”

Zander’s voice boomed over his. “Answer him.”