Page 7 of Twisted Souls (Twisted Souls #1)

Xavier

Aria stepped into my tent the following day, her long red hair cascading over her shoulders with effortless grace. She tilted her chin back, her high cheekbones emphasizing the fierce intensity of her gaze. Her brown eyes, always sharp and full of an almost palpable rage, made anyone who lingered too long uncomfortable. She had a straight nose and full lips, usually set in a determined line. Despite her petite frame, she had powerful muscles that were sun-kissed from her relentless hours of training. She was undeniably one of my fiercest warriors.

“Your Majesty,” she greeted, flipping her hair to one side and bowing deeply.

After her mother’s death, I had entrusted Aria with the governance of Territan, the western territory of Nexia. Yesterday, witches riding Daka ravaged one of its village trade markets. They had stormed the streets, reducing everything to ash.

The pixies in the surrounding forest had alerted us, and we were luckily nearby and could intervene.

“Aria, you are looking well,” I said, winking at her.

She wore a red leather bodysuit that hugged every curve of her slender frame. It was something she always tended to wear, as if she were about to head into battle.

Golden armbands linked up her toned arms like armor and flared over her shoulders like tiny wings. Weapons were strapped to her thighs and back, and I bet her red leather boots were rigged with hidden daggers as well.

She pursed her lips at me. She hated it when I winked at her. Which is precisely why I do it.

“Did you talk to the witch?” Aria asked, not wasting any time.

“Not yet. She is in Theo’s tent. He and Dedra are interrogating her now,” I replied, and as if his name summoned him, Theo walked through the tent flaps.

Theo was shirtless. His sculpted bronze chest was damp with sweat, and he wore nothing but simple black leather pants. Twin double-edged axes were strapped across his back, the blades peaking over his shoulders. He scratched the back of his closely shaved blonde head. The movement shifted the jagged pink scar on his exposed neck as he ground his teeth. The scar ran from the middle of his neck, across his collarbone, and over his right breast.

“Dedra is going to need another moment,” he said sheepishly.

Dedra was Theo’s twin sister. They shared the same round, dark brown eyes and tanned golden skin. Theo had a very laid-back demeanor, while Dedra had an uncontrollable temper. They were my generals and my closest friends.

“What happened?” I sighed, swinging my legs off the cot where they had been propped, and stood. I grabbed my weapon belt from the bed, strapping it across my chest and adjusting it as I did.

“The witch might have gotten on her nerves.” Theo chuckled lightly, but he looked nervous.

“Let’s go then,” I said, and we made our way toward Theo’s tent. It was on the far side of the camp, so it took a minute to reach. Around us, men and women huddled around simmering fires, the spring air still crisp in the shadow of the sun. Food was being shared, and laughter floated from tents. It was a comforting sound, but also one that made me grimace. They were here because of the Daka, because of the witches. Away from their loved one's having to serve and protect because I can’t find that damn book.

A scream pierced the air, snapping me out of my thoughts. Theo’s tent was just ahead, and the screams were coming from there.

“Shit,” I muttered, just as the scream was abruptly cut off. We all broke into a run, rushing into the tent.

Dedra stood towering over a limp body tied to a chair in the middle of the tent. She had meticulously braided her strawberry blonde hair into a tight bun atop her head, and blood coated her face as she glowered down at the witch bound to the chair.

The unconscious witch wore a black cloak and dark green pants, now soaked with crimson blood. Her matted black hair stuck to her scalp, and her blood-soaked face made it difficult to distinguish any features.

Dedra wore an outfit similar to Aria’s, which wasn’t surprising. The two of them were as thick as thieves. Her outfit, however, was black, and she had silver armbands lining her arms rather than gold. Scattered around her feet were a few blades, tossed aside with evident frustration.

“Dammit, Dedra, we needed her alive,” I growled as I approached the unconscious witch, crouching down at her side.

“She is alive, just passed out,” Dedra said, her head snapping towards the door where Aria and Theo stood. “I told you to tell them I needed a minute,” she bit out irritably toward Theo, who only shrugged back in response.

“I’m well aware of what a minute of your time can do,” I retorted, feeling a surge of relief as I detected a steady pulse beneath my fingers at the witch’s neck.

“Did you get any information from her before she passed out?” Aria asked, coming to Dedra’s side and handing her a cloth to wipe her face.

“Nothing useful,” Dedra said, spitting a bit of blood onto the floor before wiping her face.

I stood up from my crouched position and ran a hand through my hair. I gave her a pointed look and folded my arms across my chest.

She sighed heavily, handing Aria back her handkerchief. Aria shoved her hand away in disgust, not wanting the now blood-soaked rag.

Dedra smirked and pocketed it, turning back towards me. “More nonsense.” She sighed. “Morgana is back. Morgana will make us pay for the centuries of rot they had to endure; they will get revenge. Same old rumor-mill bullshit,” Dedra rattled off.

My jaw ticked. In our kingdom, witches were, to some, considereda lesser species—weak.

They were a type of Fae that needed blood to amplify their magic. Compared to other Fae, their power levels were significantly lower, and consuming blood was their only way to boost their magic reserves.

The problem for them was that other Fae didn’t want to give it to them willingly. Their lack of magic put them in lower positions in all aspects of our world, and theyhad been treated differently because of it for as long as I knew.

When alive, Morgana resented how she and the other witches were treated, so she started a rebellion that eventually escalated into a full-blown war. It wasn't just about seeking justice; Morgana was driven by an insatiable hunger for power. Her descent into dark magic only intensified her cravings, driving her to pursue greater control and influence.

She led her followers into villages, using her dark magic to overpower the other Fae. Many of her followers sought their revenge on those who had treated them poorly, while others kidnapped men, women, and children to use as personal slaves to fuel their blood lust.

The witches didn’t need blood to survive, but they craved it like a drug. They enjoyed the rush of power it provided them with—the power she offered them.

After the war, we prohibited witches from drinking blood, cast them from their lands, and integrated them into the other territories where we could keep a better eye on them.

Centuries had gone by, and I knew they found ways to obtain blood through black markets and secret deals, but even after all these centuries at trying to achieve peace, it seemed they were gearing up for another war.

“Anything else?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at Dedra, who looked away and started to fuss with her weapons on the ground. I stared at the back of her head and waited for her to respond.

“And she mentioned that prophecy again.” She sighed, standing up and sheathing her weapons. “And she wouldn’t stop saying it, and it got on my nerves.”

That damn prophecy.

*

“In shadows deep, where realms entwine, a queen once fallen shall anew define. From ancient blood, a lineage lost shall rise again despite the cost. The witch returns to claim her right with magic stolen and love a blight. Legends lie, and tales mislead, but the lost queen shall set us free.”

*

Aria scoffed. “They need to move on. What I want to know is why they attacked this village?” she said, putting her hands on her hips.

Aria looked at me like I had an answer.

“Guess we'll see when she wakes,” I growled, and she crossed her arms over her chest and looked away.

“I’m not going to have to put up with your brother being here too, am I?” Aria retorted, meeting my eye.

My gaze fell upon the twins, who seemed to be watching me anxiously. Besides Julian, they were the only two people who knew about my brother’s disappearance.

Aria and my brother Jaxon had been involved when we were younger. Her family had sent her to be trained by our guard, and for a few years, they had been inseparable.

Then, without warning, she left and returned home weeks before her training was finished. We still don’t know what happened between them. Anytime we asked Jaxon, he would change the subject or leave the room. He had been unbearable for years afterward and from the way Aria always asks after him, albeit angrily, I was certain she still harbored feelings for him.

“No, my brother didn’t join us on this trip,” I said, looking away, but I could have sworn disappointment flashed on her face before I did.

“Well, good,” Aria scoffed, kicking the ground with her boot.

“What happened between the two of you anyway?” Theo asked, and Dedra hit his arm.

“What?! We all want to know!” Theo said, raising his hands in mock surrender.

Aria gave a sarcastic smile. “Ask the prick—I mean prince—yourself.”

“Alright, enough,” I grumbled, a headache forming in my temples. I rubbed them, and a wet gargle noise came from the witch. I looked down at her, and she smiled with defiant satisfaction.

“Hello, boy.” The witch coughed, blood running down her chin. “You risk getting so near to your enemy?”

“I know when someone is a threat,” I replied coolly, scanning her from head to toe. “And when someone isn’t.” I wiped any hint of emotion from my face—a trait my uncle claimed I inherited from my mother.

The witch’s eyes narrowed, and her face twisted into a sneer of disgust.

“Why did you attack this village?” I asked, cutting her off before she could speak. She flashed a wicked grin, revealing her blood-stained teeth.

“Don’t you know what we seek, boy?” She sneered.

“I know you seek a worthless, forgotten queen,” I said coldly, making her bristle.

“Never forgotten and soon will return,” the witch said through a fit of coughs. “You will see.”

I scoffed. “And how exactly are you going to resurrect the dead? Hopes and wishes?”

“We don’t have to resurrect that which isn’t dead,” she said smiling, her eyelids drooping over her black beady eyes. She was slipping into unconsciousness again.

“Why did you attack this village?” I asked again, and she cracked an eyelid.

The witch coughed again and began chanting, “In shadows deep, where realms entwine, a queen once fallen shall anew define. From ancient blood, a lineage lost shall rise again despite the cost. The witch returns to claim her right with magic stolen and love a blight. Legends lie, and tales mislead, but the lost queen shall set us free.”

“Yes, we know the damn prophecy.” I sighed. “But why this village?”

The witch only smiled and chanted the prophecy again.

“Do you see why I snapped?” Dedra grumbled from the door, and I clenched my jaw.

“I have somewhere to be, but try to get any information you can,” I said, looking at Aria. Aria smiled wickedly and stalked toward the witch, flames erupting from her palms. I made it only a few feet out of the tent before the screams started again.