Page 73 of The Unbound Witch

Another tear tracked down his cheek as slowly as the blood down his neck. Atlas pulled away but remained over the top of him.

“I will… I will die in glory… knowing it took so many of you to hold me.”

“Answer.”

“I cannot. I have never discovered a way to stop it.”

“You’ve never tried,” I growled.

“Why would I?”

“Tell us where the coven leaders are,” Raven said, lightning forming in her hands.

He turned his face into the bright sunlight, maybe wishing they would come to his rescue. “We stormed the castle moments after word spread of the king’s murder. We knew exactly where the Grimoires would be. Breya had been the final test. Her death was all the confirmation we needed. For years, we’ve been accumulating information on the layout of the black castle.”

“Accumulating?” Clariss shrieked. “You’ve been torturing witches. One of your own pinned me down in a hallway after breaching the walls. You are not the savior of witches. You’re just like the others. You have one person in mind only, and that’s your damn self.”

He groaned, another trickle of blood falling as each word became a chore, a rasp. “Endora waited for the king’s barrier to weaken and took the books. We met at the castle door, but Storm and River got into a fight, claiming they couldn’t trust the others not to come for their Grimoires, so they agreed to separate in pairs. Half of them believed that the king had spread a rumor about casting near the books when they were together, and the others didn’t. When only Endora and Circe were left standing outside the castle with me, Endora cast. Her magic is so weak, no one died, but the castle was obliterated.”

“So where are they?” Bastian asked again.

He shook his head, refusing to answer. The wolf stepped back as the shadows descended again, seeping into his mind this time. He writhed on the floor, the lower half of his body twisted back and forth as foam poured from his mouth, followed by another trace of blood.

“You cannot kill him,” Raven said, leaving her spot in the circle to take Bastian’s side. “Not yet. If you want this kill, then it’s yours. But not yet.”

He turned, brushing his thumb across Raven’s cheek. “He is not dying. Death would be too easy for him. I’m just showing him what it feels like to die. My shadows are forcing him to believe it is happening. That is all.”

“It better hurt,” Clariss said, her cheeks more flush in the early morning light. “It better hurt like hell.”

“It does,” he whispered, pulling the shadows away once more.

Several moments passed as we all waited for Nikos to gather his senses. He looked terrified. Lost in a room he didn’t recognize as he managed to speak. “The only location I know for sure is the Storm Coven. Widower’s Grove. There are two witches there.”

“Good boy,” I hissed into his ear. “Now, if you don’t tell me who killed me, I will take your life.”

A smile spread across his face, gruesome and terrifying as I watched him age before my eyes. Bastian’s magic must have been stripping the elixir from his very bones.

“Have they not confessed?” he whispered, age marks scaring his skin.

I pulled away, all the possibilities wracking my brain. It might as well have been a confession that he’d coerced someone… But whom? I glanced at Raven, but she had turned away. Whether disgusted by the sight of torture or the truth of it, I wasn’t sure.

“No,” I muttered.

Atty growled, a warning likely stirred by the desperation I couldn’t hide.

Nikos flinched, rushing his answer. “I cannot answer because I don’t know. I ran into someone hidden in the castle shadows. In the shrouded hall, I simply compelled the hidden witch to find the king's blade notably missing from his side that night and kill you at the first opportunity.” He coughed. “It wasn’t personal. But Raven, here, needed a little encouragement.”

“Not personal? Not fucking personal?” It took every ounce of self-control not to rip his damn heart out. Atlas moved in front of me. He knew what I could do. What I would do. And he’d never be able to stop me if I couldn’t control myself. But then Torryn was there too, building a wall so I could not see the asshole on the floor. I turned, seething, eyes locked with Raven. Her anger and shock was as evident on her reddening face as it was mine. She nodded once, and I knew she wouldn’t hold back anymore.

“Will Raven die?” Bastian asked. “Will the Harrowing come back for her?”

He laughed again, blood spattering the floor. “She will die, and that’s all that matters for the curse. Be it from the Harrowing or justice, I cannot say.”

“Justice?” Raven whipped around, slamming her hands forward.

Nikos slid across the floor, crashing into the wall, Raven’s power throwing him out of the salt circle. Thunder cracked outside as clouds appeared from nowhere, covering the morning sun. There was no concealing the rage in her, the storm, the power she’d been holding back, as she held him pinned to the wall.

“Raven,” I whispered in a half-hearted attempt to stop her, but she could not hear me, could not hear anything as the wind whipped through our home, destroying the last of our belongings in her fury.