Page 28 of Witch’s Ruin

So, he allowed it to control him. He sat through the first course, a tomato and seafood bisque, ate enough to be convincing, and refrained from speaking. Trudy did enough talking for everyone. She still hadn’t acknowledged Mina’s presence. If she saw Mina as a threat, she didn’t make a sign of it. No doubt his father had assured her the witch would soon be out of the picture.

But…how? What were his father’s next plans? If a betrothal wasn’t enough to scare her away—and it certainly wouldn’t be—what would he do after?

He stretched his neck, side to side, willing his muscles to relax. He needed to keep his guard up. There was no doubt in his mind that Maddox would kill his witch. He needed to keep that from happening.

The second course arrived, a chopped green salad with a light herb oil dressing. He began to relax, to fall into Mina’s control. With his fading anger, common sense swept in. Mina had been right to stop him, to keep him from storming out of the room like a petulant child.

His chest expanded. She’d been brilliant. His eyes darted towards her frequently, so beautiful in her blue gown. More lovely than any female at this table, than any female in the kingdom.

Plates were cleared. As the third course arrived, a baked chicken in a light cream sauce with rice, he was fighting an urge to reach for her. His fingers itched. He held himself together, picking at his food. Soon enough, his hand found her leg, fingers bunching against the fabric of her skirts. He fisted them, continuing to eat. She made no acknowledgment of his movements. Not until he began to draw her skirt up along her leg, hidden beneath the tablecloth. Her eyes darted towards his—a warning. He slipped his fingers along the inside of her thigh, then found the apex of her thighs. She gasped. It was a tiny sound, unnoticed over the din of conversation, save for his own ears.

He looked sidelong at her. The warning in her gaze wasn’t enough to deter him. He slipped his middle finger inside her, noticed from the corner of his eye the way her hand faltered, fork coming to rest on her plate, the way her eyes took on a far away look. She squeezed her thighs against his hand.

He curled his finger once, twice, then slipped it free, pulling away from her. Her cheeks were flushed. But she mastered herself. Not a single hint of black. She’d gotten very, very good at control over the past few weeks.

Dessert was brought forth, slices of apple pie. He took several bites before leaning back. Across the table, Trudy was tapering down from her discussion of wedding gowns. She’d been talking in a high pitched, squeal to her sister the entire meal, while her father and the king engaged in some odious matter of rice trade.

The king pushed his plate away, then leaned back and turned to him. “Aleksander, you may come by my council chambers tomorrow, along with Lord Holland. We can begin discussing plans for your upcoming nuptials.”

“Afraid I’ll be—”

“Rixon would be more than happy to join you, Your Majesty,” Mina cut in, her hand finding his leg, squeezing. Play along, the gesture said. Well fuck, that was the last thing he wanted to do. But instead, he gave a jerk of a nod.

“Very good,” his father said.

Mina gave a sweet, innocent smile. She might be orchestrating this, but he had a mind to punish her for it, for subjecting him to so much as a shred of his father’s diabolical plans.

A few minutes later, dessert plates were cleared and drinks were poured, coffee for some, stronger beverages for others. He and Mina both took coffee. They had a long night ahead of them, if they intended to leave the palace and search for demons, for answers.

* * *

Rixon took Mina’s hand, striding from the dining room. He’d had to fend off not one, not two, but seven separate interruptions on his attempt to flee. Mina, as smooth as she was, handled many conversations for him, much to the disdain of those around him.

What they’d learned that morning, from the other witches, proved all too true here. The king had found a way to make the witches of the Citadel look bad. Pair that with the fact that nobility looked down on anyone that wasn’t them, and it was a cocktail for scorn.

“Fucking finally,” he hissed as the lamp-lit corridors swallowed them up. He was itching to get free. Itching for more than that, too.

“You need to get yourself under control, Rixon,” Mina hissed as they emerged into a deserted corridor. He faltered, but didn’t break stride. “I know you hate your father, but we have a job to do, and if you rise to the bait, you give him exactly what he wants. Bite your tongue and comply, until we do what we came here to do. Understand?”

“So, that’s it? You’re okay with this? What he did?” A needle of anger pierced him.

“You think I am okay with the thought of you promised to another?”

“You seemed fine when the announcement was made.”

She rounded on him, all but shouting as she said, “I wasn’t fine—!” She stopped herself, took a deep breath, and mastered her emotions. “I was furious. But I also know he’s playing his games and I’m playing mine. Let him think he has us. It will make things much easier for us. If you think I’ll let him take you from me, then you haven’t been paying attention. You. Are. Mine.” Her nostrils flared. “So—get yourself together. Control your emotions. Don’t slip up again or all of this could come crashing down upon our heads.”

He looked down at her. Something coiled deep inside of him, a sudden need for control. “Is that all, Lady Witch? Have you any other instructions?”

“No. That about covers it.” She lifted a brow in challenge, as if waiting for him to argue. He clenched his jaw, glanced around, then dragged her down a side corridor.

“Rix, what—”

He pressed her into a shadowed alcove, claiming her mouth, cutting off any further words. Something about the way she scolded him both grated and stoked him in equal measure, inciting a need to possess her. His hands found her hair, wrenched her head back until he had full access. His tongue swept in, tasting her. Their mouths fought—a battle of wills. When he pulled away, his breath was rough. “I’m going to fucking ravage you,” he promised, speaking against her lips. Then he moved along her jaw.

“Not, not here, Rix,” she gasped, trying to push him away.

He ignored that.