Page 19 of Witch’s Heart

She contemplated, thinking through her next words. “You might be the strongest witch we’ve seen in a long time, but if it weren't for my wielder, your abilities would not be enough to sway me from breaking witch law. Herrin has a soft spot for you. He would never forgive me if I didn’t act. Fortunately, my conscience is clear, knowing there’s a portal only your wielder can seal. I trust that you’ll see it stays that way?”

“I will.”

“Good.”

I stood, then bid her goodbye before retreating to my room.

Chapter 7

Rixon

Rixon clenched the missive in his fist, crumpling it for good measure before smoothing the sheet and passing it around to the others. His council chamber was full. There were a few sighs of disappointment, resignation, and then⁠—

“I told you not to sign that order,” General Ralson growled.

“You cannot speak to him that way,” Lord Haspel cried, leaning forward in his seat. “It is disrespectful.”

He smothered his snort. It seemed in signing the order, at least he’d earned himself an ally.

“The order was necessary,” he drawled, wishing his glare was enough to silence Ralston forever. Most ran the other way from his brooding personality, but Ralston was all too eager to go toe-to-toe at every possible occasion. “I will not have our people starving in their strongholds. Farms have gone fallow. All they’ve got left is land trade. Just because our coastal cities are thriving—thanks in large part to Lord Kipani’s merchant fleet—does not mean we can leave our other settlements to languish.”

“They’ll be glad they languished when there’s an army on their doorstep,” the general said, a sneer in his voice.

“The spies only reported fewer than a thousand soldiers. I’ll speak with Weiss⁠—”

“What good would it do?” Ralston cried, his face reddening with impatience. “That male is an outsider. You can hardly trust what comes out of his mouth.”

“He was correct about the repellers.”

“Yes, and perhaps you should have put in an order for a thousand rather than syphon half our border troops to become nursemaids.”

Rixon took a deep, calming breath. “Weiss didn’t have a thousand, in case you’ve forgotten. And making that many will take months, according to Weiss. Our people don’t have months. They’re starving to death. The training program won’t be ready in time, either. Until then, our military will have to do.”

Why was he letting this male goad him like this?

Ralston leaned back, scrubbing a hand down his face, obviously still irritated. He wondered if the scar Mina had given him still plagued him. He hoped it did. Hoped it fucking chaifed. Gods, he missed her—ached for her.

It had been nearly two weeks and he’d received a meager string of correspondences from her. A note from Elianna when she’d first arrived, which had infuriated him, because he wanted her words, not someone else’s. All he could think in those moments was how he would punish her for it. At first, he’d assumed it was because she was still avoiding him.

He’d been somewhat mollified when another missive had arrived a day later with an apology—that she’d been summoned immediately by the council, but had wanted to honor her promise. What she’d said after had only made things worse. The council had threatened to strip them of their bond. He hadn’t known such a thing was possible. Apparently, neither had she.

He’d fought the urge to saddle Ferrah right then and there and ride for the Citadel. She was his to protect. But how could he, when she was half a kingdom away?

Even now, he rubbed at his throat, trying to ignore the burn of bile at the thought of her coming to harm. It made him want to lock her in the nearest tower. When had he become so fucking possessive?

He knew when. Right around the time he’d lost complete control of her. When he’d made that damned promise to his father to take the crown.

He could barely keep his kingdom under thumb. His lady witch was doing gods only knew what. Everything felt like it was falling apart, slipping right through his fingers.

He hadn’t felt this out of control in…well, he couldn’t remember a time.

“If Carth attacks us with our pants around our ankles, gentlemen, we will lose the kingdom.” Ralston’s declaration brought him back to himself.

The general—along with everyone else in the room—was aware of the assassination attempt on his life. The knowledge had spread through the palace, and then the city, like an uncontrolled burn. It was normal in a position of rulership, to fear for one’s life. His father had received plenty of attempts. But he couldn’t help wondering about the timing. His lady witch was gone, and an assassin had conveniently emerged from the cracks.

“Our spies didn’t report numbers large enough to be of concern,” he found himself saying. “Until they do, we continue as planned.”

“Those numbers are plenty to take a settlement or two.”