Page 131 of Craving Carla

“Wait? Wait for what?” I look down at Kemnebi, who remains on the ground, his familiar form bringing a small smile to my tear-stained face despite everything.

“They certainly love you,” the disembodied voice speaks again, closer now. “Willing to sacrifice themselves to limbo just to bring you back.”

I look around nervously, holding Moria protectively against me. “She’s protecting your heart,” the voice observes.

“What the hell do you want from me?” I snap, fear making my voice sharper than intended.

A soft, wicked laugh ripples through the darkness, sending chills through my entire being. Ahead, a shadow begins to take shape, drawing closer with each passing moment.

“I was waiting for you to find a way to get to me,” the shadow says. “I suppose you’ve found one of my spellbooks. I put cryptic spells in each of them that only the new generation of Blackwood witches could open. You only needed three to unlock the spell.”

The shadow finally comes into view, and I find myself face to face with Tabatha. She’s even more striking than she appeared in my children’s memories—her deep brown skin smooth and radiant, her blue eyes vivid against her complexion, and her elaborate braids decorated with golden threads woven with care. She exudes power and confidence, a witch who knows exactly who and what she is.

“Why are you trapped in limbo?” I ask, still clutching Moria protectively.

Tabatha looks down at Kemnebi and smiles at him, her expression almost fond. Then she begins to circle me, studying me from every angle as if sizing me up.

“You’re too damn noble for the position,” she says finally, her voice tinged with disappointment.

She continues circling, her movements graceful and predatory. “When I cast the spell on you and your children, bringing you back from death, it came with a price. I’m stuck here until your children lift the veil and you take your rightful place as the Queen of limbo.”

“I’ve tried,” I protest. “Amari has won their trust but they still won’t lift it.”

“It’s because you aren’t ready,” Tabatha replies, stopping in front of me. “Even with Amari, you’re still this timid, innocent little girl. Limbo would eat you alive. This place is cold, nothing, heartless.”

“But there’s a reason for it,” she adds cryptically.

“Why did you give me this power if you don’t believe I can handle it?” I demand.

Tabatha’s expression grows serious. “If these lost souls were able to get free and wreak havoc on the world, there would be total chaos.” She continues circling me, her footsteps quiet in the nothingness. “I never said you couldn’t handle it. I said you aren’t ready.”

“But the veil restricts me,” I argue. “I can’t love my fated mate the way I’m supposed to.”

“That’s a small price you’ll have to pay until you’re ready,” Tabatha says dismissively. “Better than chaos. And I already know you’ve been reckless. You’ve let humans take two of your children and extract your blood.”

“Why do humans want access to limbo so badly?” I ask.

“The afterlife has always been a curiosity to them,” Tabatha says, her voice taking on a lecturing tone. She motions for me to follow her. “Come with me. You need to see exactly what you’re guarding.”

I glance down at Kemnebi, then take a deep breath and start following Tabatha.

“You might want to hurry along,” she calls back. “Time moves differently here in limbo. The longer you’re here, the more time passes in the living realm.”

I quicken my pace, staying close behind her as we walk down what seems like an endless path of nothing, Kemnebi moving alongside me.

Tabatha looks back with a smirk. “Your children are guarding you. Not a soul from limbo will come within a foot of you right now because your children find lost souls delicious. They keep limbo clean, well, as clean as they can. There’s always a new soul popping up, always something to eat.”

“Where are we going?” I ask, growing impatient.

“You’ll see.”

Suddenly, a house appears before us—a small cabin standing alone in the vast nothingness. I try to pull Moria away, but she clings harder, her legs digging painfully into my shoulder.

“Ouch, Moria, what the hell?” I wince.

“Moria’s just doing her job,” Tabatha explains, turning to face me. “You’re vulnerable in limbo. That’s the one place you weren’t covered, and it’s where you died.”

“I died because worthless humans shot an arrow through my heart,” I retort bitterly.