Page 70 of The Unbound Witch

“What is this?” He pulled the cup from his mouth with a sour expression. “It has no smell and no taste. It’s just hot.”

I shrugged, turning to glance out of the window. “It’s dried lavender. I found it in the windowsill when I got here. I’m afraid the sun dried it too quickly, and it lost its flavor.”

“Might as well have handed me pond water,” he said, holding the cup out. “Take this away.”

“You don’t have to be so rude to me,” I snapped, something I would have always done.

“Let’s not pretend anymore, Raven.”

Chills ran down my spine as I felt the power he called forth. If I played too far one way, he would get suspicious. If I got feisty, he would fight back. Somewhere in-between was a fine line I needed to walk for only a few more minutes. And then, come what may, the circumstances would change.

“What exactly are we pretending?”

“This isn’t a passing conversation between friends. You are mine now. You’ll do what I say when I say it without question. In exchange, I’ll keep you alive. Don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re anything but a tool for my cause. You had your chance. We could have been great, you and I.” He stepped forward, a marking on his neck glowing as he ran his index finger down my cheek. “But you had to go and fuck it all up with that monster.”

My heart stopped. I remembered Bastian’s words.If you feel threatened at all, kill him. No information is worth your life.Kirsi’s cold, invisible hand wrapped around my arm. Either she was going to rip his heart out, or I was going to cast the spell swelling inside me, begging to be released. The pressure of my own magic became overwhelming as the headache I’d been running from resurfaced.

“Don’t even think about it,” he whispered, his lips so close to mine I could vomit.

I couldn’t see his eyes in the dark, but I felt him falter as the door slammed open, and Bastian stood in his true form, staring, heaving, seething as the world fell deathly silent. Two great forms filled the door frame as Bastian stepped into the room. It didn’t matter, though. Nikos hit the floor with a thud, sealing his fate.

I barely registered his movement as the Dark King crossed the room, rolling Nikos with his foot to confirm he was out before crushing me to his chest. “If you ever consider making yourself bait again, you might as well kill me first. I’ll never do that again.”

“Noted,” I said with a relieved smile, holding him as tightly as he held me.

“It’s clear,” Atlas said out the door, welcoming Clariss into the fold.

“One more second, King. That’s all you were getting before I ripped his fucking heart out. You have no idea how close I was.” Kirsi floated back and forth across the ceiling as if she’d prepared for battle and had to work the nerves out.

“It’s not over yet.” Torryn grabbed Nikos from the floor and plopped him onto the single spindle-backed chair we kept near the stove.

His head rolled forward, and rather than catching him, the shifter stepped to the side, letting him crash face first into the old, dusty floor before picking him up and repeating the process. This time, his head fell backward. I cast, pulling vines from between the floorboards, watching them wrap around the chair so tightly they marked his skin, thorns digging in, drawing deep red blood.

Bastian hadn’t moved a muscle. Staring down at Nikos, jaw clenched, fists balled like hammers at his sides. It took me two seconds to realize what he was doing. What nightmares might he conjure for a man he wanted to skin alive? Based on the sly smile that inched across his face, I didn’t want to know.

29

KIRSI

Sweeping back and forth through the cottage, casting a blue glow about the dark room, I stared down at the man I’d thought was our friend. A lifetime of lies had spilled from those lips, an entire existence that was a farce. The questions I had were countless. But I wasn’t sure if I’d even get my turn based on the glare full of fire coming from the Dark King.

We’d agreed he would take Grey’s form. Keep the charade as long as possible, but when he crashed through that door as broad and dangerous as I’d always pictured him before I ever met him, I understood it. There would be no need for disguises. It would take an insurmountable effort for Nikos to live past these next few hours. Though if the king himself did not wrench the life from the prick tied to the chair, the wolf, pacing the threadbare rug near the door in human form, surely would.

In three passes, Atlas had learned where each creak and groan of the old floor was. He avoided those spots, striding in silence as we stared, waiting for the monster to awaken.

“Are you ready?” Bash asked, looking at Clariss, who stood with her chest up and chin high. Her hands wrapped around Torryn’s, and if I stared hard enough, I could see the bead of sweat cascading down her temple, although the room was likely cold.

“As I’ll ever be.” Her voice was solid. Determined. That of an old maid that took no shit, and though she may have been shaken on the inside, outside, she was hard as nails.

Atlas and Tor moved like they could read each other’s minds. Shifting the small bits of furniture to the outskirts of the tiny room, giving just enough space for Raven to pour a black salt circle with a star in the middle. She cast like it was a dance, moving lit candles and creating a space seeping with magic and power. Keeping her eyes closed, she moved her hands, tidying up the scattered grounds of salt, leaving no space for errors. With the candles in place, she finally finished, giving the Dark King a slight nod.

He stepped aside as she swiped her hand through the air, releasing the thorny vines and using magic to move Nikos’ slumped body into the middle of the circle. A marking with two opposing half arcs intersected by a jagged line lit on Bash’s neck. His eyes bore into the crumpled man as he began to twitch and whimper. The Dark King stepped forward, pulling out his knife to slice away Nikos’ clothing, exposing all of his hidden markings. He snorted once before covering Nik’s little dick with his shadows.

Clariss stepped to the edge of the circle, never crossing a single grain of salt as she cast and all sound vanished from his trembling lips. I moved higher, getting a different vantage point, swallowing down my jealousy. Knowing these gathered witches were pulsating with a power I’d never feel again. The moment Scoop entered my mind, I shut it down. Shut down all thoughts and feelings and simply became an empty vessel. Insubstantial and haunted, nothing more.

“How much did you give him?” Bastian pulled his gaze away from his victim to lift an eyebrow to Raven.

She shook her head. “It was dark. I couldn’t see very well. Just a pinch or two of the powder.”