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Ryker

The moment my boots met the damp earth, I knew something was wrong.

I flicked my head to the side, signaling Malesh to fan out, then repeated the gesture to Eamon. Both men acknowledged my silent orders with a barely perceptible nod before they disappeared into the darkness.

I inhaled a deep breath, allowing my senses to delve into the surrounding woods as I tried to locate the source of my unease. A twig snapping underfoot was all the confirmation I required.

“They’re still here.”

“The Wraith Borne?” one man asked, and I didn’t miss the slight tremor in his tone.

Most of my men knew the power of the Wraith Borne firsthand, but a small contingent had been too young to serve during the Cleansing.

“Do not allow the Wraith Borne to get their hands on you,” I warned. “Their toxic magic can drain the life from you with a single touch, should they choose.”

Eight decades had passed since that blood-soaked day, which was now immortalized in the pages of our history books. My father had grown paranoid about the Wraith Borne over the years. Their ability to break a person from the inside out as their magic twisted and crushed their victim’s organs with a mere touch, had already made most of their brethren wary of them.

They were some of the most lethal Fae the Unseelie Kingdom had ever produced, and when their numbers continued to rise, my father had judged them to be a significant threat to his position on the throne. It took little work to convince the council to gradually restrict their freedoms as he nudged the Unseelie Fae toward his ultimate end.

The eradication of the Wraith Borne.

His fears proved to be well-founded. The Wraith Borne had descended on the palace, wielding their deadly touch and killing anyone who stood in their way before my father even had the chance to go on the offensive.

What followed was a coordinated effort to hunt down and kill any Wraith Borne who survived the initial attack until my father had achieved his goal.

The cleansing of the Unseelie Kingdom from the disease that was the Wraith Borne.

No one had been spared. Men, women, and children had been sentenced to death by virtue of the magic that flowed in their veins.

Now, as I stood within the tree line of the darkened woods, I was reminded of the fact that the Cleansing had failed.

My father had only given the deadly Fae more reason to despise him and his rule.

The telltale signs of the Wraith Borne had marked the bodies scattered across the kingdom's outskirts in recent years.

Like the one we had just left.

My palms tightened on the pommel of my sword as I stepped further into the woods.

An unnatural stillness hung in the air, the silence wrapping around me like a shroud. It seemed as though even the trees held their breath, waiting and watching as we tracked our prey.

My shadows seeped from me, twisting and writhing as the dark tendrils scoured the path ahead. An icy chill settled in, and I saw mist form in front of me as I exhaled.

“Kane,” I called, and the Earth Fae fell into step beside me.

“Does the earth speak to you?”

The man dropped to his knees and pressed his palm flat against the ground. His magic pulsed around him as he sent it into the dirt beneath our feet, searching.

After a moment, Kane lifted his gaze to mine, his eyes full of dread as he shook his head. “It’s as if everything inside these woods is dead.”

“Dead? How is that possible?”

“I don’t know,” he murmured. “Something is wrong.”

The Earth Fae rose from the ground and returned to his position. A moment later, Malesh emerged from the brush and took his place.

“I couldn’t find any trace of them, Ryker. I don’t like it. What if your father —”

Malesh’s words were cut off as an arrow whistled through the air and struck his flank with a thud. Malesh grunted as he clutched his side, and blood coated his fingers in a torrent.

Then chaos erupted.

Arrows flew in every direction, and my men scrambled for cover, ducking behind tree trunks and diving to the ground.

I gripped Malesh by his bicep as I pulled my shadows around me and stepped through the inky mass. I closed the distance to a nearby tree, where I laid Malesh against the thick base.

“Wait here. I will return for you.”

With a pained grunt, Malesh acknowledged my command.

I returned to the fray and saw Eamon fending off a blow from one of the Wraith Borne, who had finally given up their position. He raised his sword above his head before bringing it down in an arc toward his assailant. The Wraith Borne sidestepped the blow and lunged for Eamon.

Eamon lifted his muscular leg and landed his boot in the center of his attacker’s chest. The man crumbled to the ground, a pained moan escaping him. The sound faded abruptly as Eamon swung his sword again, this time severing the man’s head in one swift blow. A crimson fountain erupted from the man’s neck, and Eamon stepped back to avoid the spray.

When he caught my eye, he gave me a curt nod to let me know he was unharmed before he lunged for his next opponent.

Another Wraith Borne leaped toward me, and I raised my sword to meet his.

I didn’t even glance in his direction. I was acting on instinct as my shadows whirled inside me, warning me of the impending danger.

Power thrummed through my body, and I sent an inky-black tendril sailing through the air toward him. It wrapped around his throat, and I squeezed.

The man dropped his sword as he clawed at his neck.

That only made me squeeze harder.

A loud crack echoed between us as the man’s head lolled to the side.

Fuck.

I hadn’t meant to break his neck. I’d wanted to drag it out a little longer.

Tossing the man aside, I studied the battle unfolding before me.

I saw one of my men sprawled out on the ground, unmoving. His body lay twisted and contorted, as if drained of every ounce of life. His withered skin clung to his bones, resembling old parchment left to shrivel with time.

His vacant eyes had sunken deep into their sockets, and his lips had been pulled into a tight line, with only the barest gap visible, as if his last breath had been violently wrenched from him. His fingers were curled into skeletal claws, forcing his knuckles to protrude against the gaunt, withered skin.

All that remained was a fragile husk, ready to crumble at the slightest touch.

Rage flooded my body, and I clenched my jaw tight.

The Wraith Borne killed without mercy, stealing the very souls from their victims, leaving nothing for their families to mourn.

I returned my sword to its scabbard and held my hands out in front of me. My shadows responded to my call as they contorted and danced beneath my palms.

I directed them forward, and they slithered across the ground undetected by the combatants above them. My shadows snaked their way up the bodies of the men, rising and expanding until darkness encased the entire battlefield.

Frightened gasps and low curses cut through the air.

Fear permeated the woods, and my lips curved into a menacing grin.

I was at home in the darkness.

My men had long since grown accustomed to my shadows, and their silence allowed me to track the enemy with ease.

I reached beneath my tunic and retrieved the two daggers sheathed at my back. My shadows concealed the sound of my footfalls as I snuck up behind one man and ran my blade over his throat.

The smell of copper filled my nostrils, and I let the scent ground me. The man dying at my feet gurgled and spluttered as he tried and failed to take a breath.

At that moment, I embraced the name many whispered behind closed doors, fearing I might hear and come for them too.

I became the Night Cursed Prince.

Hidden in the darkness, they couldn’t see me coming, and their fear grew potent. It swarmed my senses, and I let it wash over me as I savored the intoxicating aroma of their terror, letting it fuel my strength.

With each hushed whisper and panicked inhale, I drew closer, moving silently through my shadows undetected. The Wraith Borne thrashed wildly, turning in circles and stumbling over their own feet as they moved through the dark matter aimlessly, desperate to find an escape.

I cut, stabbed, and sliced my way through them, their horrified cries spurring me on.

All too soon, the killing ceased, and my shadows retreated, curling and twisting along my body until they were one with me once more.

I stood among a field of bodies, covered in the blood of my enemies, as I caught my breath.

A low whistle sounded beside me, and I turned to meet Eamon’s gaze.

“You really outdid yourself this time, Ryker.”

I grunted in response as I swiped at the blood trickling into my eyes.

“Where’s Malesh?” Eamon asked, and I stiffened, remembering the dire state in which I had left my friend.

I darted behind the large tree and sucked in a sharp breath when I saw his unconscious form slumped against its base.

Eamon cursed behind me as I pressed my fingers against the pulse point at the base of Malesh’s throat.

It was faint, but it was there.

“He needs help,” I said as I lifted Malesh’s body and pulled his arm around my shoulders to support his weight.

“Get the men home safely.”

Eamon nodded at my command, and I pulled my shadows around me once more.

Malesh needed a healer.

Luckily for him, I knew exactly where to find one.