Page 65 of Witch’s Ruin

Frowning, he went to the window, looking down into the gardens. The torches flickered below, but he saw no signs of movement. Was she already on her way up? He stood…and waited. Minute after minute ticked by, until a growing sense of fear took hold of him.

“Fuck,” he hissed. He backed away from the window. Glancing down at himself, he made sure his weapons were belted in place. Then he strode from the room in search of his lady witch.

Chapter 21

Mina

I meandered through the garden, taking in the flickering torches lining the paths. It was magical at night. Something about the dark shadows kissing the cool air, the flickering torches, and the stars overhead. I’d visited several times during the day, but it never felt quite like this. I adjusted the neck of my tunic, tugging at it.

With each passing day, the thing inside me gained strength. I was more volatile. Quicker to anger. Rixon’s mistake had been an honest one, albeit careless.

I took a deep breath, slowly exhaling. What a mess. Everything was spiraling out of my control. Today, especially, had been an absolute disaster.

We were no closer to solving the demon problem and now I wondered if we could. With all that had happened, could I continue playing the king’s games? Or was everything ruined.

It wasn’t just the broken engagement. It was what Trudy had seen on the roof. She’d found us fucking; she’d seen my demon crazed eyes. Part of that was Rixon’s doing. I was all too aware that he’d gone in search of me, knowing she had been looking for him, knowing she’d find him on the roof. Maybe he’d done it in hopes of her backing out on their engagement. When she hadn’t, he’d taken matters into his own hands.

Was I entirely blameless? No. I could have stopped us immediately, hidden my face from view. Instead, I’d looked at her, challenged her as she stood there gaping at us. Let her see how much I enjoyed him.

It was shallow, my jealousy.

A small part of me—a sliver that was still good—recognized that it wasn’t my finest moment. The rest of me—the darker half, the stronger half—relished in her discovery. I liked the pain it caused. Rixon belonged to me, and me alone. Anyone who believed otherwise deserved whatever misfortune came their way.

I stopped before a hedge of red roses, reaching out to caress an open bud.

The king believed Rixon belonged to him—his creature to do with as he pleased. I clenched my fist around the bud, ripping the petals from the stem. His father thought he could take him from me, thought he could split us apart.

I opened my hand, letting the petals flutter to the ground—

“They say roses are the flowers of love.”

I whirled, coming face to face with King Maddox. He had a contingent of guards flanking him. They fanned out around us. My eyes darted over them as my fist, now empty, clenched and dropped to my side.

“I had these planted for Leone, shortly before we wed.” He clasped his hands behind his back, the picture of calm collection. “I loved that woman, even before we married. I was lucky in that. Most marriages are ones of convenience.”

I swallowed, calculating.

“She loved them for their beauty,” he continued, eyes gazing over the sea of roses. “But beauty can be dangerous, can it not?” He reached out and plucked one by the stem, ignoring the danger of the thorns.

The guards around us shifted, moving about the garden casually. I tracked them in my peripherals, pretending to keep my full attention on Maddox. Inside, I had a well of power waiting, desperate to burst free. I would use it on him if I had to. I would kill every single guard in this garden, if it came down to it.

Hesitating, he handed me the rose. I carefully lifted it to my nose, letting its sweet fragrance wash over me, letting it ground me. My eyes stayed locked on his. The king had loved his wife—I knew that much.

Perhaps it was the one thing that made him likable.

“When she died, I was…undone,” he explained. “I had the royal gardeners fill the entire garden with them, roses in every color. A reminder for what I had lost. Like roses, love is both beauty and pain.”

It was almost uncanny how much of Rixon’s face I saw in him. Frightening, really. But there was no mistaking the decay present. He was wasting away. Sick.

“I heard from Miss Holland this afternoon, that my son has seen fit to break his engagement. I realize now that perhaps love is to blame. That perhaps he has the same kind of love I once had, the kind that claims you, the kind that breaks you.” His gaze hardened. “The kind that controls you.”

Ice slipped into my belly. I dug deeper into my well, a cat ready to pounce. Around us, the world remained frozen, ready to shatter.

“I was mistaken to believe I could remove you from the picture, Lady Witch.” At his admission, I blinked. “My son loves you. Only a blind fool would miss it. And so, I have made a new realization.” My heart thumped. “He cannot lose you.”

My lips parted. Was this…a trick? A new game?

“He cannot lose you, but neither can he have you—” His fingers flicked.