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SOLD TO THE SHADOW FAE Novel Cover

SOLD TO THE SHADOW FAE

To clear her family's debt, human healer Elara is sold to the cruel Shadow Fae. Transported to the gloomy realm of Nocturnia, she serves Prince Kaelen, a stoic warrior burdened by a secret curse. While navigating dangerous court politics, Elara discovers a conspiracy that endangers both worlds. Despite her initial fear, she grows closer to the Prince. Now, the pair must confront an ancient evil before the magical veil breaks for good.
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Chapter 4

ELARA

I woke to the sound of shattering glass.

My eyes flew open. The room was dark except for the silver glow of my veins pulsing beneath my skin. Three days since the failed ritual and they still hadn't stopped glowing.

Another crash. Closer this time.

I sat up, heart hammering. "Kaelix?"

No answer.

The bond between us pulled taut with sudden alarm. I felt his emotions surge through the connection, fury, determination, pain.

He was fighting.

I scrambled out of bed just as the door burst open.

Kaelix stood in the doorway, breathing hard. Blood splattered across his face and chest. His silver eyes blazed with lethal intent.

"Stay in this room," he commanded. "Lock the door. Don't open it for anyone but me."

"What's happening?"

"Assassins. Light Court." He turned to leave.

"How many?"

"Too many." He glanced back at me. "If I don't come back…"

"Don't say that."

"If I don't come back," he continued, voice hard, "the bond will kill you within hours. So I suggest you pray I survive this."

Then he was gone.

I stood frozen for three seconds. Then I moved.

Screw hiding in the bedroom like a damsel.

I grabbed the closest thing to a weapon I could find, a letter opener from his desk. Pathetic, but better than nothing.

The bond pulled at me. I could feel Kaelix fighting, feel his exhaustion, feel the curse draining his strength with every spell he cast.

He was going to lose.

And if he died, I died.

I ran.

The corridor outside was chaos. Shadow warriors fighting Light Court assassins. Magic crackling through the air. Blood on the marble floors.

I pressed against the wall, trying to stay out of sight.

"There!" Someone shouted.

I turned.

Three assassins broke away from the main fight, heading straight for me. Golden armor gleaming. Light magic burning in their hands.

"The Wild Court heir! Get her!"

I ran.

Behind me, footsteps pounding. Getting closer.

"Kaelix!" I screamed through the bond, through the air, through my terror.

A door ahead. I burst through it, slammed it shut, looked for something to barricade it with…

The door exploded inward.

I stumbled back. The three assassins entered, spreading out to surround me.

"Lady Seraphine sends her regards," one of them said, smiling.

"Tell her to go to hell."

"You first."

He lunged.

I swung the letter opener. It was like trying to fight a hurricane with a toothpick. He knocked it from my hand easily. Grabbed my throat. Lifted me off the ground.

I couldn't breathe.

Black spots danced across my vision.

Through the bond, I felt Kaelix's rage spike. Felt him trying to reach me. Too far away.

I was going to die.

No.

Magic exploded from my body.

Vines erupted from the floor, thick, black, thorned vines that shouldn't exist. They wrapped around the assassin's legs, his arms, his throat. He dropped me.

I gasped for air, stumbling back.

The vines kept growing. Kept tightening.

The thorns tore through his armor like paper.

He screamed.

I screamed too, horrified by what I was doing but unable to stop.

The other two assassins attacked. Fire magic. Light magic. Burning away the vines.

More vines grew. Faster. Angrier.

My magic was responding to my terror, my rage, my desperate need to survive.

One assassin went down, vines wrapping around him, crushing him.

The last one backed toward the door.

"What are you?" he gasped.

I didn't know.

Green light blazed from my hands. The vines shot forward…

A shadow blade pierced the assassin's chest from behind.

He dropped.

Kaelix stood behind him, covered in blood.

Not all of it his.

Our eyes met.

"You were supposed to stay in the room,"

he said quietly.

"They came for me anyway."

He looked at the bodies. At the vines still writhing across the floor. At me, glowing with Wild Court magic I couldn't control.

"You killed them," he said.

"I didn't mean to. I just…I couldn't stop…"

My legs gave out.

He caught me before I hit the ground.

Pulled me against his chest. His heart was racing as fast as mine.

"It's over," he murmured. "You're safe."

"Are you?" I pulled back to look at him.

Blood everywhere. A deep gash across his ribs. Burns on his shoulder. "You're hurt."

"I'm fine."

"Liar." I could feel his pain through the bond. Feel the curse eating at him. "Let me see."

"Elara…"

"Let me see!"

He sighed and let me push his torn shirt aside.

I gasped.

The curse mark on his chest had spread. Black veins covered his entire torso now, crawling up his throat. Pulsing with each heartbeat like poison.

"Oh gods," I whispered. "The fighting made it worse."

"Using magic accelerates it. I knew that."

"Then why…"

"Because you were in danger." He said it like it was obvious. "The curse doesn't matter if you're dead."

"If I die, you die. The bond, remember?"

"That's not why I protected you."

The words hung between us.

"Then why?" I asked softly.

He didn't answer. Just looked at me with those ancient silver eyes.

My hands moved to his chest without thinking. To the curse mark. To the black veins spreading like cracks in glass.

Heat flowed from my palms. Green light. Wild Court magic responding to my need to help him.

Kaelix inhaled sharply. "What are you doing?"

"I don't know. Just…don't move."

The magic poured out of me, drawn to his curse like light to shadow. Soothing. Healing. Not curing it, but easing the pain.

The black veins stopped pulsing quite so frantically.

Kaelix's eyes closed. His breathing slowed.

"How does that feel?" I whispered.

"Better. Much better." He caught my wrists gently. "But you need to stop. You're exhausted."

He was right. The magic had drained me. But I didn't want to stop touching him. His skin was warm beneath my hands. His heartbeat steady now.

When had I stopped seeing him as just my captor? When had he become... this?

"Elara." His voice was rough. "You should rest."

"So should you."

"I need to secure the palace. Make sure there aren't more…"

He swayed suddenly. I caught him this time.

"You're about to collapse," I said.

"I'm fine."

"Stop lying." I pulled his arm over my shoulders. "Come on. Bed. Now."

"Elara…"

"That's an order. Or have you forgotten I'm a princess?"

Despite everything, he almost smiled.

"Technically you haven't been officially recognized yet."

"Then consider this practice."

I half-dragged him back to his chambers. He was heavier than he looked, all muscle and height and stubborn pride.

He collapsed onto the bed with a groan.

I knelt beside him, checking his wounds. The gash across his ribs was deep but already healing slowly. Fae healing abilities.

"You saved my life," I said quietly.

"You saved mine first. With the healing magic."

"I don't even know how I did that."

"Instinct. Your magic responds to your emotions. You wanted to help me. So it did."

"Is that how all magic works?"

"Wild Court magic especially. It's primal. Emotional. Powerful." He looked at me.

"You killed three trained assassins without any training yourself. That's not normal, Elara. You're not normal."

"Thanks?"

"It's a compliment. You're extraordinary."

Heat flooded my face. I busied myself with cleaning the blood from his chest, trying to ignore how intimate this felt.

His skin was warm under my hands. Scars crisscrossed his body, centuries of battles. I traced one absently.

"Does it hurt?" I asked. "The curse?"

"Constantly."

"I'm sorry."

"Why? You didn't cause it."

"No, but I didn't break it either. The ritual failed because of me."

"The ritual failed because I stopped it. Because I couldn't..." He trailed off.

"Couldn't what?"

His eyes met mine. "Couldn't do that to you. Even knowing it would kill me."

My breath caught.

"Why?" I whispered.

"I don't know." He reached up, tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers lingered against my cheek. "I've been trying to figure that out for three days."

We were so close. His hand on my face. My hands on his chest. Both of us covered in blood and exhausted and alive against all odds.

"Kaelix…"

A knock at the door shattered the moment.

"My lord!" Lysander's voice. "Urgent message!"

Kaelix closed his eyes briefly. "Come in."

Lysander entered, took one look at us, and raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

He held out a scroll sealed in blood.

Kaelix took it. Read it. His expression went cold.

"What is it?" I asked.

He handed it to me.

The words were written in elegant script, the ink dark red. Blood.

"Return the Wild Court heir within three days or I will declare war on your court and every court that harbors her. She is mine by right of prophecy. Surrender her willingly or I will take her by force. - Lady Seraphine"

I looked up at Kaelix. "What prophecy?"

"I have no idea." He crumpled the message. "But it doesn't matter. She's not getting you."

"She's threatening war."

"Then we'll have war."

"You're dying. The curse…"

"I don't care!" The words came out fierce. He grabbed my shoulders. "Listen to me. I don't care about the curse. I don't care about the war. I care about keeping you alive. Do you understand?"

I stared at him. At the intensity in his eyes.

"Why?" I whispered again.

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Looked away.

"Get some rest," he said finally. "Both of you. Dawn is coming and we have much to discuss."

Lysander bowed and left.

Kaelix started to rise.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"To organize defenses. If Seraphine is declaring war…"

"You need rest more than I do."

"Elara…"

"Lie down. Now." I pushed him back onto the bed. "I'll organize defenses. Tell me who to summon."

"You don't know…"

"Then teach me. But you're not getting up until you've slept at least a few hours."

We stared at each other. A battle of wills.

Finally, he sighed. "You're stubborn."

"So are you. We'll make a great team."

Something flickered in his eyes.

Something warm.

"Yes," he said softly. "We will."

I pulled the blanket over him. Started to move away.

His hand caught mine.

"Stay," he said. "Please."

"The bond won't let me go far anyway."

"That's not why I'm asking."

My heart did something complicated in my chest.

"Okay," I whispered.

I lay down beside him. Not touching, but close. Close enough to feel his warmth. To hear his breathing slow.

Through the bond, I felt his exhaustion. His pain. His determination to protect me.

And underneath it all, something else. Something he wouldn't say out loud.

He cared.

The monster who bought me to kill me had somehow started caring whether I lived or died.

And gods help me, I was starting to care about him too.

"Elara?" he murmured, half-asleep.

"Yes?"

"Thank you. For healing me."

"Thank you for saving my life."

"Always," he whispered.

Then sleep claimed him.

I lay there in the darkness, listening to him breathe, feeling the bond pulse between us.

Three days until Seraphine's deadline.

Three days to figure out how to survive a war.

Three days to understand why the monster was starting to feel like something else entirely.

Outside, dawn was breaking.

The war was coming.

And I had no idea if we'd survive it.

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