Page 27 of A Bond of Ice and Glass (Crowned By Wings #2)
LOCHLAN
I stand at the edge of the pit, my boots sinking into the ash-covered ground. Dragons twist in agony below, their scales turning into shadow-glass and smoke. One by one, they’re brought to kneel, their chains tightening around their throats. I feel nothing as I watch them break.
They’re better now. Stronger, like me.
The smell of burning ether and charred blood fills the air. It’s beautiful.
All around me, the witches watch from the ridges, their eyes gleaming with firelight. They’re hungry for the one thing only I can give them. Revenge. Power. Not even the Witch Queen has been able to break their curse. But I’m not just going to break it. I’m going to use it to set the realm on fire.
I lift my hand, letting out more of my magic.
Dark ether writhes from my palm and slams into the last of the Witch Queen’s dragons.
The beast shrieks as my magic pools into its veins and forces it to the ground.
Another dragon bent to the shadows. It won’t be long before every dragon is under my power.
Let Maelena say no to me then.
A smile twists my lips at the thought of her. By the time I’ve got what I want, she’ll have no choice but to come with me. She’ll regret not choosing me, and I’ll make her pay for it.
“Do you see?” I turn to the witches. “With the right power, even the unbreakable can be broken.”
None of them cheer, but I see it in their eyes. The hunger.
The need for more power.
“It’s time to bring the shadows into the light,” I call out, “and let them burn the world anew. A world where witches won’t be silenced and we can be in control again.”
They applaud then, shuffling in excitement. Restless for revenge.
An amber light catches my eye as it moves between the dragons. And then comes the voice.
“You always were a great speaker, my lord.”
The old woman shuffles through the shadows, her bones creaking under her black cloak. A heart-shaped pendant beams gold around her neck. I watch her climb the steps to where I stand at the highest ridge. Everyone moves from her, because like me, they can see through her disguise.
“You missed the show, Magra,” I say, crossing my arms once she reaches me. It feels so good not to wear those ridiculous gloves anymore. The black lines pulsing with dark ether writhe around my hands and up my arms and neck. I’m not ashamed of them. I’m proud.
There aren’t any witches strong enough to withstand this much dark ether .
I guess I can thank my father for that. A pity he never used it.
He was too afraid to. Maybe if he had, he wouldn’t have been killed when the Witch Queen took over.
My father was one of few nobles who were strung outside the gates to rot.
It was only recently I had his bones taken down.
I was sick of looking at them. It reminded me of his weakness.
Magra lowers her hood, and the old crone who helped me with Maelena sneers up at me. It’s an ugly, wrinkled face with too many warts and too few teeth. The ones that are present are stained and covered in rot.
But the face transforms slowly in front of me. The wrinkles smooth out, the gaps in the teeth fill and straighten, no longer rotten but white and sharp. Her straggly hair turns mauve and glistens with lustre again.
For a moment, I almost find the face beautiful.
Until I remember who it belongs to.
The Witch Queen leans forward and kisses me on the cheek. “You did well, my love.”
I don’t move even though I want to shove her away. She’s too useful to me right now.
I need to play along until I get what I want.
“I held my end of the bargain,” I grit out. “Now yours. You promised me a crown.”
She pulls back and touches the pendant. Inside the glowing amber heart, a silver orb pulses. Faintly.
My stomach churns at the sight of it. Of all the things I’ve done—of all the lives I’ve corrupted and taken—stealing Maelena’s unborn baby is the only one I’ve so far regretted. But it was necessary for the plan to work.
“And you will have one,” the Witch Queen purrs. “But you know what we must do first.”
She taps the pendant, and the orb pulses inside, quicker. Stronger. I feel it in my spine, in my blood.
“It’s almost ready,” she breathes. “The soul of fire and frost. And we’re going to burn the gods with it.”
All the dragons start to roar and shriek, causing the mountain to tremble in answer. Wherever Maelena is, I know she can feel this.
Good.
Let her remember what we stole from her. Let her come for it.
The war is just beginning.