“And yet you refuse to name her,” Darius says, stepping closer. His voice is a low purr, but the threat of it is unmistakable. “A rogue witch with the power to break a sigil should be a warning to us all. Who is she? Where can we find her?”
The High Mother’s lips tighten again, her resolve hardening. “It’s not your concern. She is no longer part of this coven.”
Galen’s laugh is venomous, his magic crackling around him like a storm barely restrained. “Not our concern? Your coven broke the covenant, shattered the balance, and unleashed chaos. It is very much our concern.”
The High Mother’s shoulders lift, and for a moment, her defiance is almost admirable. But irritation and frustration take over, as my anger rises and I’m certain she’s protecting the girl. The women are lying and covering for the girl who broke the covenant and destroyed the order.
To break the sigil is despicable.
To lie and protect the traitor who perpetrated this act of rebellion is a crime worse than the first.
My gaze hardens as I step closer and the women tremble.The air tastes rich with their fear and it’s a drug I’m getting high off, my senses ready to indulge themselves as the pleasure of their pain consumes me. The witches stay silent, their eyes darting nervously between them, and I cast my eyes over them, checking that not one of them deserves to be spared for Galen.
“We want the truth,” he says, his tone dark and deadly. “And if you won’t give us the truth willingly, we’ll take it.”
The High Mother’s eyes widen as the full weight of his words sinks in. She takes a step back, her magic flickering weakly in response to the storm brewing around us. Her power is a dying flame and she’s no match for the gale gathering at our backs, and the hesitation in her fingers is another sign of her weakness.
“You wouldn’t,” she whispers, though there’s no conviction in her voice.
“No,” Galen replies, his lips curling into a dark smile that sends a shiver down my spine, “but he would.”
Darius moves. His darkness erupts in a wave of shadow, blackness spiling from him, drowning everything in sight in its ink. The air snaps with tension as taut as a rope and our fury erupts from the depths of our souls, raw and unrestrained.
Galen releases a wave of fire from his hands and it tears through the air with an unnatural hunger. It rips at the air with a shriek of rage, scorching the earth beneath our feet, turning the grass to ash. The High Mother tries to shield herself, her hands trembling as she raises a feeble barrier, but the fire doesn’t even pause. It engulfs her, wraps around her like a living thing, consuming her in its heat. The roar of the flames swallows her screams. Her magic flickers, sputters out like a dying candle, and then she crumbles, her body collapsing into a pile of charred remnants.
A sharp crack echoes in the air and Darius comes alive.
The coven’s magic falters as the surrounding light is devoured. They try to fight, and I can feel the pathetic flickers of their weak spells trembling against his pull. But it’s no use. Darius doesn’t just command the dark, he is the dark. It wraps around their limbs, pulls at their throats, and tears the light from their hearts. They are no more than marionettes in his grasp, squirming, gasping, as the darkness devours their very souls.
“Tell us everything,” Galen commands, his voice calm but laced with lethal intent. “Or the next step will be yours.”
The coven remains silent, too afraid to speak, their fear hanging in the air like the scent of blood. It’s too late for them now. Too late to back down, too late to change course. They made their choice when they chose to rebel and now the only decision they’ll make is how much this will hurt.
The ground trembles beneath us as I release a surge of my own magic, forcing a witch with silver eyes to her knees. Her cry is strangled as she’s dragged down, unable to fight against the sheer weight of my will.
“Where?” I demand, my voice more dangerous than it has ever been. “Where is she?”
The witch dares to look me in the eye as she spits at my feet. “Rot in Hell.”
My fingers clench and the witch’s scream echoes through the clearing as my power surges, the energy ripping through her and pulling from her essence like a black hole. Her body goes limp, her life snuffed out in an instant. Her soul, twisted and broken, is absorbed into the darkness I command, my heart beating faster as it enjoys taking her pathetic, meaningless life.
“Who’s next?” I ask, certain it makes little difference in the end.
