Page 58 of The Dread Prince (The Dread Descendant #2)

Reeve yanked his Magic back, narrowly missing Maxius’ small frame as the boy lunged forward. Magic ripped from his single pointed finger, shattering through the hall and throwing up a shield of dark energy around Maeve as her body hit the crystal floor, and didn’t move again.

The coliseum froze.

Mal did not move to her side. The Dread Prince’s eyes were set on Maxius, a look of shock plastered across his face.

The youngest Magical to point a single finger.

Even younger than Mal had been.

Tears streamed down the child’s face as he turned silently towards Reeve.

“She is alive,” said Reeve carefully, a tenderness in his voice. “I did not fatally wound her.”

Maxius’ look of fear and anger towards Reeve did not falter. Zimsy appeared at Mazius’ side and took his hands in her own.

She drew the child’s attention up at her, and he fell into her, bursting into tears. His dark shield of energy crumbled.

“Maxius.” Mal’s cool and calm tone rang across the arena.

The child looked up at him swiftly. He slipped from Zimsy’s embrace and raced towards Mal, tears still streaming his round face.

Mal did not pick him up as he reached the floor of the arena, despite Maxius’ raised arms. Mal took his head in his slender fingers.

“She is alright,” said Mal. “Do you want to know how I know?”

Maxius sniffled and gripped the fabric of Mal’s pants. Mal dropped his hand and scooped Maxius into his arms in a fluid motion.

Mal looked up at Reeve. “Because her blood flows for me.”

Reeve’s shoulders fell and his jaw relaxed. He looked back at Maeve. Tiny breaths rose and fell in her chest. Mal crossed towards her as Maxius buried his head against Mal’s neck. Mal kneeled beside her and brushed his free hand down her cheek.

Maeve’s first full breath sucked a year’s worth of energy from Reeve as he finally felt her Magic swell back to life.

“Thank you for the hospitality, Reeve of Aterna,” said Mal. “We will see you soon.”

The three of them vanished in a dark cosmic haze.

Dread spiraled down Reeve’s core. Mal moved off Crystalmore without a Portal, despite Reeve’s own enchantments to prevent such Magic without his authorization. Reeve’s eyes shot to Eryx. His second seemingly had the same realization: The Dread Prince found the Spellbook.

The room released a collective breath as the mist cleared.

Abraxas joined Reeve at his side. “That seemed unnecessary,” he said pointedly. “Was she alright?”

“I broke her jaw,” said Reeve quietly, realizing how much power had slipped from him.

He had not intended to do such damage, and Maeve was sure to be sour for it.

Zimsy appeared at his other side, her steps even and slow. Her Elven beauty stood stark in the presence of so many Magicals and Immortals in attendance.

Abraxas ran his hand through his bright blonde hair. “I suppose it needed to look convincing.”

Reeve looked down at him, his head cocking to the side.

Abraxas didn’t meet his gaze. His eyes remained on the guests whispering about Mal’s sudden departure and such a deadly duel. “It’s a curse really,” he said quietly, “knowing everything.”

Reeve steadied his breathing. She wouldn’t have told her cousin. She was many things and reckless was not one of them.

Abraxas sighed, shaking his head. A soft, placating smile appeared on his lips. “I know you have good intentions here, High Lord. My uncle was your friend. I merely meant you likely didn’t want to duel my cousin. But the Prince insisted.”

Abraxas’ voice was political. Reeve knew he wouldn’t receive an honest and uncalculated response from The Dread Prince’s hand, despite being Maeve’s cousin, and so he chose to ignore the entire insinuation.

“She’ll be fine,” said Zimsy, watching Reeve. “Maeve has endured worse for less.”