Page 35 of An Unlikely Knight

A cold shiver slithered up Erin’s spine, goosebumps formed on her arms. The world she thought she understood was unraveling.

“We’re on the other side,” she murmured, gripping the phone tighter. “The castle’s not visible from here.”

Padraig’s eyes were sharp, unreadable as he studied the view.

A deep voice crackled through the speaker. It was Tristan. “Padraig? Can you get through?”

Padraig didn’t answer right away. His gaze stayed locked on the unnatural mist. Then, finally, with lack of certainty, he said, “Probably.”

Gwen’s voice came back, laced with apprehension. “Call us back if you can’t make it.” The call ended.

For a long moment, Padraig sat motionless, head cocked to the side then upright, he studied the swirling fog. Then he exhaled, turned to Erin, and spoke, his tone serious.

“Be ready. The moment you see an opening, drive straight through. Do not stop. Do you understand?”

Erin nodded. “Yes.”

A grin spread across his face. “Good.” Pushing the car door open, he climbed and began walking toward the mist.

“What the hell is he doing?” Aubrey breathed, leaning between the seats, her face pale.

They could only watch, hearts pounding, as Padraig strode toward the mist—barefoot, clad only in a loose tunic that barely reached mid-thigh. Despite his lack of attire, the purposeful long strides and set of wide shoulders exuded power, command of the situation.

And then—he lifted his arms.

Aubrey sucked in a sharp breath.

“Holy hell.”

Erin’s mouth went dry at the sight before her. Dim morning sunlight seeped through the cloudy sky and cast just the right illumination to highlight every taut muscle, every shift of sinew beneath his golden skin—and the firm curve of his very bare backside.

Aubrey exhaled slowly. “Damn,” she whispered, reverent. “That is one amazing view.”

“Yep,” was all Erin could manage as a reply.

Something like electrical blue and gold sparks erupted in Padraig’s palms, flickering as if alive. He moved his hands in slow, deliberate arcs, sweeping them downward until they hovered at shoulder level. The circular fiery rings grew, stretching out like ravenous tongues toward the mist.

Erin clenched the steering wheel, her fingers trembling.

Then he walked forward, and the mist swallowed him, and he seemed to vanish, except for the flames that shined through the thick hovering void.

Seconds ticked by, agonizingly slow.

A violent explosion of color detonated through the fog, streaks of blue, gold, and violet cutting through the mist. A tunnel of raw, crackling energy stretched open, pulsating with twisting currents of power.

Aubrey gasped. “What the actual hell?”

A deafening, high-pitched screech sent Erin’s senses reeling. Like microphone feedback turned up to an unbearable volume, it stabbed through her skull, making her wince.

The tunnel wavered. The screeching grew.

Aubrey grabbed her arm. “Go!”

Erin snapped into action. She slammed the gas pedal. The car lurched forward, gears grinding as she shoved it into second, then third, then fourth.

The tunnel was both terrifying and breathtaking—a swirling, living storm of energy, twisting and weaving like a cosmic dance. Colors she couldn’t name slashed through the air, warping and shifting, forming impossible patterns.

She wanted to stare. To take it in.