Page 37 of Witch’s Heart

“And you would what,”—General Ralston sneered—“roll over and show them your belly?”

Rowe’s cheeks flushed but he fell silent.

“There will be no surrender,” Rixon reiterated. He slid a sheet of parchment in front of him and set about a response to the group of witches camped outside his city walls. He handed it off to Andrei to be delivered. “Now, let us discuss a better solution for how we can best protect our people.”

“I say we call for an immediate supply of these repellers,” said Haspel. “Outfit every settlement with them. Ensure that traveling merchants have adequate protection. Who knows, perhaps we won’t need the witches when this is all said and done. I, for one, wouldn’t mind seeing them to obsoletion.”

“Can we really trust Carth with something like this?” Ralston asked.

“We don’t have a choice!” Haspel shot back.

The discussion continued as they outlined a strategy to implement something of this magnitude. Haspel was the most animated he’d seen in days. Perhaps that was a good thing.

Rixon rubbed his temples, sighing. He absently picked at the food that was delivered. It had already been checked, his taster having come and gone. Lola and Julian stood just outside the chamber door, should they be needed. The council had protested adamantly about the presence of outsiders in their meeting—a witch, no less. It was the best he could do, keeping them just outside the door.

They would have protested Mina’s presence, too. But on that he would not budge, should she wish to attend. He’d meant what he said about wanting to crown her as his queen, to make her his wife, and he hadn’t missed the way she’d glossed over it. He worried she wouldn’t allow it. He didn’t have the authority to force her into something so monumental, nor would he.

Even if the thought needled him.

He’d long ago accepted her rule. Yet, his lack of control was burrowing beneath his skin. It was why he frothed over the idea of binding her and fucking her. It was a product of his current circumstances.

What was she up to, anyway? Probably in the library, looking for more information on the portal. An image of her flashed into his mind, of her body pressed against the stacks, legs wrapped around his waist, blue velvet dress hiked up. She’d be dripping for him. He’d have to cover her mouth, ensuring she didn’t make a sound. He couldn’t have her disturbing other patrons.

Just the thought had him shifting in his chair. It was a blessing when they finally called an end to today’s meeting. Not that he was done, he still had several other matters that would take him hours to complete.

The fantasy of Mina haunted him throughout the day.

Dusk was setting in when he tossed his quill down and leaned back, rubbing his eyes. The clock on the wall tick-tick-ticked in the otherwise silent study. His father’s study. He hated this room. At some point, he planned to erase every bad memory, replacing them with new ones, preferably one with Mina spread out across his father’s desk while he feasted on her cunt.

A low growl of impatience rose in his chest and he slammed his chair back, enjoying the sound of it scraping across the wood floor. He’d ordered her to come and find him, if only to offer a brief reprieve from his duties. Yet, she had not. His irritation surged, worsened by the stress of the day.

The witches had departed shortly after receiving his note. He worried about how they’d retaliate. What it would mean for Raeria.

He needed Mina—needed a distraction—but she had not headed his orders.

He searched the library first, thrilled by the idea of ordering everyone out so that he could punish her surrounded by books. She wasn’t there. He checked with the guards at the palace gate, but she hadn’t left. None of the servants in the corridors had seen her. She wasn’t at the palace’s tallest vantage tower, looking out over the city he’d promised to give her.

It wasn’t until he caught sight of his dungeon guards standing well outside the corridor that he knew something was wrong. They confirmed his fears, informing him that Mina had ordered them to leave. Out of concern, they had decided to wait just outside.

Jaw clenched, he headed down to the cells below. It was quiet. Too quiet.

“Mina!” he called, striding with angry steps towards the last door, which hung ajar. When he pushed it open, he staggered to a stop. The scent of shit and piss hung heavy in the air.

Mina turned, her demonic eyes glinting in the dim light. “Rixon.”

The assassin was chained, his arms wrenched above his head, feet dangling. There was blood staining the floor, dripping from massive open wounds on his chest. His pants were in place, but the rest of him was ravaged. He looked close to death, if he wasn’t already gone.

That wasn’t what iced his blood. It was the demon. There, clinging to the shadowy corner, its maw bloodied, antennae flicking as it clicked and warbled, stood a Jarg.

Chapter 13

Mina

Rixon’s expression changed from shock to fury, which fed into my own emotions. He drew his sword and strode across the room. “Stop!” I cried, arm outstretched. He ignored my shout. My irritation intensified. I opened my mouth to issue a command, to use the bond against him⁠—

He beheaded the Jarg with a single, efficient sweep. The Jarg I had painstakingly spent hours creating a summoning circle for before pulling it from the depths of hell, using knowledge Bern had once imparted upon me during our journey to Rockfall. My first ever summoning, and now it was gone. I stared at its carcass, my breaths coming faster and faster.

How dare he?!