Page 20

Chapter 20

Risk

brIAR

T he Duke of Greenbell looks so much like his son that seeing him makes my chest ache, Hans’s image superimposed over his father.

Seeing him lying in this bed, imagining that it could be the man I have grown to care about so much? It’s become personal for me.

I have to save this man.

“Have you heard the story of the witch in the Whispering Woods?” I say softly, holding his cold hand in mine.

“Well, of course, my dear.” He’s got a soft, trusting smile on his face.

I hope that sticks around.

“I hadn’t until I met your sons. They stumbled upon my home and told me they had been looking for me. That was the first time I heard that there were stories about me and people to hear them!”

His eyes widen. “What are you saying, young lady?” Gerrit snorts softly at his stepfather calling me young but tries to play it off by rubbing his nose with his hand.

“I am the witch from the Whispering Woods.” I let my words hang in the room. It’s a lovely bedroom with high ceilings and wood-paneled walls. The bed is massive, with luxe fabrics of red and gold spread along it.

Lounge chairs sit by a window with a bookcase full of hardbound volumes.

But as beautiful as it is, it smells like death.

Death and magic.

“That’s preposterous,” he sputters, yanking his hand away. “That’s a child’s tale.”

“Many parts of it are, for sure,” I assure him. “But I am very much real. I’m not a witch, though.”

He tries to wedge himself higher but struggles, and Hans has to assist by propping him up with pillows. “Well, what are you?”

I look anywhere but him. Even though I do not know him, his opinion of me still matters because the boys care so much about him. I don’t want to see the judgment on his face. I know Hans and Gerrit support me, but that doesn’t mean anyone else will. “I’m a succubus—a type of demon. I don’t have magic. I am a magical being.”

“You brought a demon into my home? Are you mad?” the Duke yells at his sons. “As if I am not cursed enough with this illness, you condemn me with a demon?”

“It’s not like that, Father,” Hans pleads. “And the curse is why we brought her.”

“Mother tried to curse Hans,” Gerrit insists. “But there was a mistake, and the curse latched onto you. That’s why you’re dying. We think Briar can help. That she can save your life.”

The Duke sputters in indignation. “Your mother would never. She loves me. She loves Hans.”

Gerrit shakes his head sadly and sits beside the bed, reaching for his stepfather’s hands. “She wanted to get rid of Hans so I could succeed you. That’s why she tried to marry Hans off so he’d lose his title. When you wouldn’t agree, she tried to curse him. But instead of tying Hans’s life force to one of the plants outside the window, she tied yours. When that plant dies, so do you.”

The Duke shakes his head. His eyes are narrowed on me, and I know this is hopeless.

He doesn’t trust me.

He never will.

My chest aches as I slide off the bed, preparing to be ejected from his home.

“If your words are true, what makes you think she can help me?”

It’s not what I expected him to say.

Hans holds out his hand, and a small flower begins to bloom in it. “You know what my magic looks like, right, Father?”

“Of course,” he says sweetly. “I’ve always been so proud to have a son blessed with magic.”

“Briar, can you show him your effect on it?” Hans holds his hand out to me, and I take a few steps forward. Reaching my hand out, I place my palm on the back of his hand, cupping his fingers that gently hold the flower.

Green and gold swirl around the flower as it expands, growing double, triple, and then four times its previous size. But it’s not just growing larger. Its petals are changing colors, and its fragrance is filling the room.

“Her magic is wild and strong and chaotic. But Gerrit and I have chosen to become her Complements. We can temper the magic, help her focus it, and achieve incredible things together.”

We didn’t talk about them being my Complements, but as soon as he says it, I know he’s right. After that moment we shared in the woods yesterday, I feel tied to them in a way I hadn’t before.

They’re mine.

And I am theirs.

The Duke still doesn’t look convinced, but the initial suspicion that hung over him is significantly reduced.

“How do you expect to heal me if I am cursed as you say?” The skepticism is firm in his voice, but I don’t take it personally.

He doesn’t know me.

“Utilizing Hans’s magic, we’ll bring the offending plant next to you. We will work together to extract your life force from that of the plant, essentially dissecting you from the plant. If that doesn’t work, if you are too entwined, I will need to remove the curse from you. In which case…”

“In which case, you’ll have to go to sleep because there is more of a risk of damage,” Gerrit interrupts.

I narrow my brow at him. We were supposed to tell his father that his mother would have the curse returned to her.

He must worry that his father would refuse if he knew that was what would happen.

And as much as I am loathe to lie to the man, he is not my father. I will let Hans and Gerrit decide how they approach this delicate situation.

“It seems simple,” the Duke says, looking between me and Hans. “Why can’t you do it on your own?” That’s directed at his son.

Hans kneels at the bedside, his olive green tunic stretched tightly across his fit chest, clashing against the red bedcover. “I tried before I left, and it made it worse. It sped up the death of the plant.”

For the longest time, the five of us, including Flint, exist in silence. Then, with a heavy exhale, the Duke nods. “I suppose it cannot hurt to try. Are we to do this now?”

Eager to get started and save the man, I cross to the window. Throwing it open, the offending plant immediately makes itself known to me. “Hans, that one,” I say, pointing at a green stalk with browning yellow bulbs of flowers on it. It doesn’t look healthy, and it would be easy to rip it out of the ground and be done with it. “I’m going to boost your magic. I need you to pull the entire root system and the soil out. I’ll get it in here.

Hans nods with determination, and I cup his elbow. In just a few delicate moments, the plant is removed from the ground, soil clumped around its roots. I push some of my magic to move the air, levitating the plan and bringing it inside the room, where I land it in a wash basin.

The Duke watches on in curiosity, one that I share. I don’t know how my magic works. I may never. But I do know that it works best with my men beside me.

“Let’s see this curse,” I mutter, waving my hands over the plant. I push my intentions forward, revealing the curse and the life force of the Duke and the plant, all glowing around the plant in purple, green, and red shimmering strands.

I swear, walking around the glowing ball of magic.

“Fuck,” I say quietly, just so Hans and Gerrit can hear. “This is worse than I thought.”

“What do you mean?” Gerrit replies, looking over his shoulder at the plant.

“Can’t you see the strands?” I ask, pointing at the tangled mess in front of me.

Gerrit shakes his head, but Hans takes a step toward the plant. “I can see what look like green threads, all tangled up. I have never seen that before. What is it?”

It never occurred to me that others couldn’t see the magic. It must be a perk of being a magical creature versus a human with magic. “My power boost must be allowing you to have visibility. I see the life of your father and the plant and the curse all tangled together. They are all so knotted that I’m unsure if I can get them out intact.” I reach out and poke the writhing mass of life. It’s like a bundle of snakes, all tangled and tied together.

“Anything you can do?” Hope is a living creature in Hans’s voice.

“I can try to cut the curse instead of unraveling it. But that’s risky.”

Flint’s by our side quickly. “Tell all of them the risks. The Duke included,” he projects into my head.

Sometimes, I think Flint knows more than he lets on. It’s almost like he can see outcomes and guide us toward the safest one. It must come with being an eternal spirit.

“Duke,” I say gently, taking a few steps from him. “Your lifeforce, that of the plant, and the curse are so intertwined that I cannot weave them apart.”

“What does that mean?” he says, eyes bouncing between us before landing on me again. “Do you mean there’s no hope?”

“There is a small amount of hope,” I say, looking at Gerrit and Hans, ensuring they’re paying attention to me. “The curse and the plant are intrinsically combined. If I cut the curse, there is the possibility that it will release you from it and the plant.”

“Why wouldn’t you just do that? It sounds easier,” Gerrit asks.

I wince, wringing my hands together. “To do that, I have to weaken the curse significantly so it doesn’t tear your father’s strands on the way out.”

Hans grabs my hand and squeezes, and Flint begins to whine.

Gerrit hasn’t figured out where this conversation is going yet because confusion still mars his face. “How do you do that?” he asks quietly.

The door at the back of the room slams open.

“By killing me.”