Page 50 of A Curse of Breath and Blood (The Mind Breaker #1)

49 THARAN

Tharan watched Aelia sleep, running his hand through her hair, listening as she made little murmuring sounds. He couldn’t explain how he’d became so enamored by such a woman. For once, he didn’t need to pretend to be anything other than himself.

Reluctantly, he pulled himself away from her. The Scepter of the Dead lay quiet on the polished oak table. “Morrigan, show yourself. Bow before the Alder King.”

The scepter sprung to life. From the mouth of the bird, a thick black smoke poured onto the floor, taking the shape of a woman warrior.

“My king,” the Morrigan said, bowing low. The fair-haired maiden possessed both striking beauty and a fierce spirit, her azure eyes piercing and her complexion as fair as fresh milk. “You are not the Alder King.”

“My father is dead. Killed at the hands of the kingdom your army massacred.”A knife sliced through his heart at the thought of his father’s untimely death.

The ghostly figure of the deity took a seat at the table. “It was glorious. My army has not shed blood for an age.”

Tharan waved her off. “That’s not why I summoned you. ”

The Morrigan cocked her head. “Then why, my king, did you summon me, if not to gloat over your victory?” She turned to look at Aelia, who still slept silently in the next room. “I have been waiting for one like her, you know. One which has the power to unleash me.”

“I know what the scepter does to the wielder. It sucks their life force until there is nothing left of them but a dried husk.”

“A small price to pay for the power the wielder gains.” She tapped her fingers on the table rhythmically. “She is no normal magus. There is a great power trapped inside her.”

Tharan raised an eyebrow at her. “She is made of that which came before.”

“Before?” The Morrigan’s brows knitted in confusion.

“Before the Trinity. Her mother is a Fate.”

“So, she is a goddess?” The Morrigan leaned back in her chair, crossing her hands over her chest.

“We are all ancient in our own ways. My father was born from the trees themselves. I’m guessing you knew him.”He fought back the tears welling behind his eyes.

A smile tugged at the corner of her lush lips. “Yes, I knew him before they called him king. When they called him by his name, Eoghan.” She leaned in close to Tharan. The smell of death lingered on her skin. “I loved your father for many centuries. Before the Trinity culled the land, we slaughtered creatures, both magus and humans, together. But he never returned my feelings.” She ran a ghostly finger over his scar. “How did you get this, fair king?” Sadness and longing flickered behind her ghoulish eyes.

Tharan lowered his eyes. “I loved the wrong woman.”

“Shame. You have your father’s eyes.”

Clearing his throat, he glanced toward Aelia.

The Morrigan caught his glance, pouncing like a cat on a mouse .

“You care for her, don’t you?” She sat back in the leather chair. “You called me to make a bargain for her life.”

Tharan’s body went rigid. “And what if I did?”

The Morrigan twirled her white hair lazily around her finger. “I’d say, once the blood is bound, there is no going back.”

Tharan’s heart blazed with what could be described as love for this woman he barely knew.“Take me. Bind me to your army.”

The Morrigan chuckled. “Oh, but I would, my fair king. Too bad the blood has already been bound. There is no reversing it until the wielder is dead.”

He clenched his jaw. “If you take too much from her, I will kill you, Morrigan.”

“I am already dead, my king, but you can try. Besides, I think you’ll come to find you will need me before too long.”

Tharan raised his chin, studying the Morrigan and how confidently she sat there. “Go on.”

“I know little more. I do not venture where the darkness lingers. But there are those who travel to the land of shadow, and they say those who live there are biding their time, waiting for an opportunity to escape into the land of living again and reclaim what they lost.”

Tharan tucked the information away for later.“Thank you, Morrigan.”

She nodded.

“One last thing before you return to the world beyond.”

The Morrigan held him with an inquisitive stare.

“Don’t kill her before I make her mine.”

She gave him a small smirk. “Perhaps when I am free, I will call you mine. You never know.”

“Be gone.” He waved her off, and she disappeared the way she had come—into a cloud of smoke.

Aelia slept silently as Tharan climbed into bed next to her. Intertwining his hand with hers, he replayed the fight in the castle in his mind, guilt plaguing him for not doing more to protect her.

Aelia flinched in her sleep. Her eyes fluttered open, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her pink lips. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but instead, she nuzzled her face into his chest. “Thank you for taking care of me, Tharan.”

He ran his fingers through her ebony hair. “You’re welcome,” he said, kissing the top of her head as she slept. “I promise I will not fail you again.”