Page 15 of A Song of Air (Fae Elementals #4)

U ric stared at the cluster of trees, squinting through the foliage as if he could see through the shadows. Years of training kept him focused. He wanted to slip into the darkness much like Weylyn had earlier. To go out into the woods and investigate. He’d been trained for that, after all. But that had been years ago when his only duty had been to garner secrets and threats for a court he despised.

His duty now was to protect Prince Valerio.

From the threat he knew was out there.

“There’s something out there,” he whispered to his friend.

It seemed even Valerio couldn’t take his gaze off the silence of the wood either. Uric kept close to his prince in the likely event that he’d need to grab him and make haste within a portal. He’d done it once and been chagrined for it, but he would do it again if he had to.

Sometimes, the prince didn’t know what was good for him and had no sense of self-preservation. It was up to Uric to protect him from others and, more importantly, from himself.

Whether he wanted that or not.

That was Uric’s duty, just like it had always been.

“I know,” Valerio replied.

Behind them, Iona’s familiar was restless. He’d been growing more agitated by the hour, pawing at the ground and huffing. It didn’t matter how much the ice Elemental tried soothing the creature, he continued to huff his agitation.

Goosebumps rose along Uric’s flesh, and he let out a slow breath.

“We should leave,” he suggested.

Prince Valerio grunted. “The Elemental is somewhere in there.”

Uric wanted to growl in frustration. “It won’t matter if we’re dead.”

Valerio cut a glare his way. It was disapproving, and his lip curled with disgust. It made a part of Uric want to recoil. They were friends. They had been for years. But things between them were constantly shifting, the lines always blurring, and not in ways Uric particularly cared for or understood.

His friend was growing more irritable with him as the days went by. The methods Uric took to protect him for years were suddenly not enough. They made Uric seem like a fucking villain . But if that’s who he had to be, then so fucking be it.

“My prince—”

Iona’s bear roared. The bushes exploded. Bodies emerged. Shouts ensued.

Uric reacted on instinct, pulling a black dagger into his hand—the only gift he had left from home—and brandishing it, shoving Valerio behind him as people jumped from the trees. They cried out like animals, their calls savage, and the masks adorning their faces even more so.

They were made of wood and clay and feathers, painted into twisted, grotesque forms. They were meant to be fearful, Uric was sure of it. But scum hiding in the shadows did not intimidate him.

He was Uric Adriel Nova, son of the High Lord of the Obsidian Court, and he did not fear what came from the shadows because he was born in their depths and had seen the nightmares they held tenfold.

And if he had to use the darkness to kill those that threatened his prince, well, he would not hesitate.