Page 92 of Avalon Tower

The silhouette has deep blue eyes. The prince’s eyes…

The snakes writhe up my body, and I open my mouth to scream.

I bolt upright in my chair with a shout of fear. My heart is pounding wildly, hammering against my chest. I’d fallen asleep at my desk, and the candles went out. Darkness cloaks the room, but everything seems solid again. My unfinished letter to my mother lies in front of me. Rain is still hammering against the windows.

With a shaking breath, I search for the Dream Stalker’s thoughts. But no, he’s gone. I’m awake, alone.

And then the shadows move, and I realize that I’m not as alone as I’d thought.

CHAPTER 30

Ashadowy figure stands by Serana’s bed. For one hopeful moment, I think it’s Serana, returned already. But no, that doesn’t make sense.

For one thing, he’s well over six feet tall and wrapped in a black cloth from head to toe. Only his eyes are visible, golden and malevolent. And there’s something else about him, a strange vibration emanating from his body. My heart skips a beat. I just barely have time to register the curved scimitar in each hand before he lunges at me. Behind him, lightning flashes, and thunder rumbles through the stone walls.

Reflexes take over as my daily training with Viviane starts to pay off. I grab the thing closest to me—my tea mug—and hurl it at him. He tries to dodge, but I caught him by surprise, and the cup smashes into the side of his head. He stumbles, giving me enough time to jump out of range of the scimitars.

He lets out a strange hiss, and it takes me a second to realize that he’s laughing. My heart thuds violently in my chest, my breath coming in short bursts. I try to assess his body language the way Raphael has been teaching me. Based on his casual stance and the way he looks at me, the careless way he holds his blades, he doesn’t see me as a threat. I can hardly blame him. I’m a tiny, unarmed girl in pajamas he found sleeping at her desk. And there he is, towering over me, a warrior with a weapon in each hand. But as long as he underestimates me, I have an advantage.

I pretend to stumble, kneeling by my bed, letting out a shriek of fear, raising my left hand to protect my face. He takes a step forward, lifting one of his scimitars to slash at me. Blood roars in my ears as I grab for the dagger I keep hidden under my pillow. With its smooth, obsidian hilt in my palm, I strike, aiming for his stomach.

He blocks me with his other scimitar. Still, I manage to cut his fingers, and he lets out a hoarse curse, dropping one of his blades. I’m already rolling away, his other blade barely missing me. I jump to my feet.

For a sliver of a second, we stare at each other.

He’s not underestimating me anymore, which is deeply unfortunate. His wounded hand is curled into a fist, dripping with blood, but he still holds a scimitar in his other hand.

I’m by Serana’s bed now, and it’s a mess like always. And, like always, she’s got weapons scattered on and around it. I quickly grab a sword, holding it in front of me. I can’t let him see how heavy it feels in my hand. I have only the most rudimentary training with swords, but he doesn’t need to know that. I let my lips quirk a bit, showing confidence that I don’t have. Masking my real emotions.

He doesn’t lunge forward. Instead, he eyes me cautiously, taking his time. And then he whispers something that sounds Fey, though I can hardly make out what he’s saying.

Around us, the air begins to hum, and a charge brushes over my skin. A shimmering mist rises from the floor, tendrils curling towards me.

My stomach drops. It’s veil mist. This is a veil mage. That vibration I noticed before is the veil’s hum, coming from within his body. He doesn’t need to cut me down. He can kill me with magic.

Or so he thinks.

I summon my Sentinel powers. I don’t need to conjure up powerful emotions because this asshole coming into my room at night and trying to kill me has done the job already.

Concentrating, I focus my magic at the mist, disrupting it as the tendrils touch me. The hum in my ears disappears, and the mist curls harmlessly around me. The mage stumbles, disoriented by my response, and I lunge forward and stab at him. He parries my sword, nearly tearing it from my fingers. I jump away as he swings clumsily at me.

All this time, he’s made sure to stay between me and the door, blocking my escape. But now, it doesn’t matter because I finally hear what I’ve been waiting for since I let out that scream: footsteps pounding through the hall, over the flagstones. Distant still, but I can feel the vibrations. And through the walls, I hear Raphael’s muffled voice calling my name.

The intruder doesn’t even turn around. Does he not hear Raphael? But then I hear him whispering again. And the mist rises around the door.

He lets out his eerie laugh as I stare in horror, realizing what’s about to happen.

Raphael will barge through that door, straight into the mist. It will kill him in seconds.

I let my fury course through me and summon my magic to disable the mist, except this time, the mage is ready for it. Before I can snuff out the power of the mist, he slices at me, forcing me to jump back, breaking my focus. The mist rises all around the door, shimmering in its unearthly colors.

“Nia!” Raphael cries, closer now.

I gather my powers, and the mage lunges again. I dodge, his blade whispering inches away from my throat, my concentration disrupted.

“Nia, I’m coming!” Raphael calls outside the door.

I tug at my power for the third time. The mage strikes once more. This time, I ignore his attack, flinging my magic at the mist.