I lift my chin higher. My hands are still shaking, but I clench them into fists and hold my ground. I will not back down. I will not show fear. I will not let him see how terrified I am.
“No,” I say. “You made the mistake. When you burned my flat down.”
Silence. The kind of silence that feels like it’s full of sharp edges.
Then Dis laughs. It’s a low, dark sound that rolls through the flat like distant thunder. Not amused. Not even close to amused. Something far colder than that. Something that makes the temperature drop again and frost form on the window behind me, ice crystals spreading across the glass in delicate patterns.
“Oh, Little Witch,” he says, and there’s something terrible in his voice. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”
I think about the texts I studied. The binding spells I memorised until I could recite them in my sleep. The three months of preparation that went into this moment, every detail checked and rechecked.
I think about what he did to me, how he destroyed my peace when I had only just won it. I think about how very tired I am of taking hits and never, ever punching back.
“I know exactly what I’ve done,” I say. “I’ve bound you. And you’re not going anywhere until I say so.”
The blue eyes stare at me. Unblinking. Burning with something that might be rage or might be grudging respect or might be both at once.
“You are mistaken,” says Dis.
The shadows pulse, testing the boundaries with more force. The runes flare bright in response, blazing blue-white, holding firm.
“Very, very mistaken to dare to try to hold me,” he growls, and his voice drops into something deeper, something that resonates in my bones. “I am Dis. Dismay. Disaster. Disgrace. Disfigure and disembowel.”
Each iteration drops like the threat it is. Each word is a promise of violence. Primal fear coils in my belly, cold and sharp, but it ignites something else too. Protective rage. Furious determination. He tried to kill me once. I won’t let him do it again.
“Alright, Disney!” I snap.
He slams against the invisible wall with a snarl that sounds like tearing metal. The entire building shakes. I take a step backwards, my heart in my throat, certain the binding is about to break.
But the wards hold. He’s trapped. Properly, completely trapped, no matter how much power he throws at the circle.
I’ve actually done it. I should feel triumphant. Vindicated. Powerful.
Instead, I just feel terrified.
Because I have a former shadow king in my living room and absolutely no plan for what happens next.
Chapter 4
Actions Have Consequences
Ididn’tsleeplastnight.I tried. I went to bed at a reasonable hour, like a person who has their life together and definitely does not have a furious shadow king trapped in their living room. I lay there staring at the ceiling while blue light seeped under my bedroom door and the temperature in the flat dropped to somewhere around arctic.
Every so often there was a sound. A scrape. A thud. Once, something that might have been a growl, or might have been the building settling, or might have been my imminent death approaching.
I did not sleep.
Now it’s six in the morning, and I’m standing in my living room doorway with a cup of tea, staring at the summoning circle.
The eyes are still there. Burning blue in the darkness. The shadows around them have become thicker overnight, more solid, like Dis is slowly pulling himself into a more tangible form despite his clear desire to sulk.
He’s been testing the circle. I can see the scorch marks on the floorboards where he’s pushed against the boundaries. The runes are holding. Barely.
“Good morning, Disney,” I say.
The eyes narrow. “There is nothing good about this morning, Little Witch.”
His voice sounds rougher than it did last night. Like he’s been shouting. Or screaming. Or doing whatever shadow beings do when they’re trapped and furious about it.
