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“I will serve on my knees, Milady. Cross my heart.”
Gods spare me. “What did you do to him?”
“It’s just a little spell. So long as I live, he’ll love me,” she says, scratching under his chin like he’s a dog.
“Very well, then.” My mind was already made up before I came into this room. Before I even crossed the foyer, really. Everyone here shows signs of blood magic use, except Calliope. Though, I’m sure she’s having the others do her dirty work for her.
The witches in this room should be killed as an example for daring to hold Griffin against his will alone… even if he’s saying otherwise now. The spell has him talking nonsense, but there's a glint in his eyes that tells me he's still in there, fighting to get out. That, and the fact he hasn’t insulted someone or made some snide remark in the last five minutes is proof enough that he’s not in his right mind.
Inhaling deeply, I feel the magic build between my fingers. I hear it sing in my veins, vibrate in my bones. Smoke coils around my hands in an instant, heeding the call. Curling my clawed fingertips toward my palm, the blood witches glaring at me from the shadowed corners of the room evaporate into ash. All but Calliope.
Granted, she likely should’ve seen that coming. She knows about my magic, that I command death itself. If she hadn't sucked her minions dry, like the leach she is, maybe they wouldn’t have been on the brink of death.
“Oops,” I muse, enjoying the way her eyes burn.
Even the mad king took issue with the morality of blood magic, and the man tortured his children and countless others. There wasn’t a need for a trial. Nor was there a need to involve my brother or Alice. The evidence of blood magic condemned these creatures. It convicted them for taking innocent lives for the sake of magic.
“I suggest you run,” I say, picking the witch’s blood out from beneath my nails.
“Run?” She snorts, but I catch her eyes scouring the room for exits. Calliope might be bitter and cold and inhumane, but she’s not an imbecile. She knows better than to try to face me on her own.
The queen might’ve wanted me to refrain from making an enemy of this clan, but can they be an enemy if they’re all dead?
Besides, not punishing them would only send the wrong message to the other ruthless creatures in this realm. Some might believe the crown is weak and incapable of controlling its people. It would open up the door for others to dare worse acts and push the laws that keep this land peaceful…mostly.
“Have it your way,” I say, rolling my eyes. A flick of my wrist has her clawing at her throat and her feet inching toward me step by step. I match her pace, meeting in the middle, avoiding Griffin’s wide-eyed stare. Though, I hear him snarl deep enough to rattle my bones. “Down boy.” I lace the command with power and force Griffin to sit cross-legged in place, my attention never leaving the cold, menacing blue eyes of the witch before me. “Now, what were you hoping to negotiate with the Lord of Solaria? You know I’m a man of my word when it suits me. Play nice, and I’ll make it quick.”
She swallows thickly, her shoulders squaring as if my magic isn’t coiled around her body like a snake. Griffin thrashes against my thrall, the snarls and snaps growing louder as he transformspartially into his beast. Though, his claws shred the vacant air as I pin him in place.
“We wanted…” She starts, sending a worried glance toward Griffin.
“Don’t look at Griffin.” I pinch her chin, forcing her stare back to mine. “Keep going, or I’ll feed you to him.”
“The elves wanted us to secure the ports around Solaria. Promised us control over the outer realm if we did.” I let her face go, holding her still with my magic as I mull over what she’s admitted.
The elves?Alice had mentioned stirrings, that some of the lords were worried they might be planning something. If they wanted the blood witches to secure shipping ports, then it’s proof of treason.
I don’t bother asking another question, I simply twist my wrist and Calliope’s head whirls in a sharp jerk, until it’s facing the wrong way. Her body goes limp and falls to the ground the moment I release my hold on her.
Griffin roars, then stills. His beast alter ego retreats until the man regains control, blinking rapidly and squinting as if the light is too bright in the dim room. It’s like he’s been held in a dark dungeon for days and is just seeing the hell flame for the first time. Slowly, his gaze travels down his body, taking in the outfit that leaves little to the imagination. “What the fuck am I wearing?” His head lifts, his eyes veering from me to the body at my feet and the ash piles scattered about the room. “Oh gods,” he whines, buckles and heaves the contents of his stomach onto the floor.
With a snap of my fingers, Calliope’s body is gone. She should be landing in the dungeon below Hell Hold any second now, but at least he won’t have to look at her any more. Stepping forward, I rest a hand on his shoulder, but he bats it away. “What took you so long?”
“That’s an odd way to say thank you.” I arch a brow as he glares up at me from the floor.
“I might’ve said thank you three days ago. Do you have any idea how many witch toes I’ve had to suckle since then? We’re long past thank yous.” He grimaces as if he’s given himself a mental image.
“Well, maybe next time you’ll choose yourloversmore carefully.” I pull him to his feet. “Let’s get out of here.”
Griffin jerks his limbs away from me. “Oh no. I’ll walk.”
My face falls. He hates teleporting, but I command him with my power anyway, dragging him closer, and threads of shadows and light spin around our joined bodies, whisking us through the folds between worlds. Then as the magic fades, we find ourselves in front of Grim’s Keep. “Welcome home.”
“Home? You’re kidding me, right?” Griffin stalks after me as I start toward the front door, wondering if Valeria has risen yet. Not that I expect her to. She needs the rest.
“Alice’s words, not mine. Trust me, I’d love nothing more than to send you back to your father’s castle.”
He's nipping at my heels now. “What does my mother have to say about this? Did Alice even ask her?”
