Page 63 of Witch’s Heart

There came a shuffling sound and then the door opened. Herrin glared at him, blinking. “What?”

“You’re late for our sparring session.”

Herrin frowned, then glanced at the clock and grunted. “Lost track of time. Might’a had one drink too many. No sparring today.”

Rixon sighed. He’d been looking forward to getting his ass kicked. Having Herrin beat some of the tension out of him. Perhaps he’d try Julian later.

They’d received more reports today from their scouts. Carth’s armies were still camping on their doorstep. It felt like the calm before a storm. It left him on edge.

He eyed the depths of Herrin’s room beyond the open door. “Got any left to share?”

Herrin huffed and stepped aside, opening the door wider. “Still got half the bottle left.”

He collapsed on the couch beside the old wielder who offered him a glass and said, “Need me to try that first?”

He grunted. “You’ve already drained half the bottle, no?”

“Indeed. Hasn’t killed me yet.”

They clinked their glasses together and he downed his, holding it out for a refill. “So, how are you holding up, old man?”

“How do you expect?”

“Like shit?”

“Like shit.”

His chest tightened at the thought. He couldn’t imagine the kind of grief Herrin felt, if he was anywhere as close with Fiona as he’d been with Mina. The idea of losing Mina—he couldn’t even consider it, though he’d come close when his father had taken her. When he’d been forced to bargain for her whereabouts, fearing the worst.

If he lost her now? How could he possibly carry on? Except, he would have to. There was an entire kingdom counting on him. Is that how Herrin felt, having promised Fiona he’d look after Mina for her.

“I used to fear the thing living in Mina—I still do. But fuck, I’m glad of her extra power. Glad that she has a way to protect herself. Glad, even, that she can control demons. It means that she’ll have an extra advantage.”

Herrin grunted. “I’m sure that helps with your control issues.”

“You have no idea.” They’d talked more about his…issues during their daily sparring sessions. He’d come to rely on those bits of time carved out. Sometimes the other wielders joined him, Julian, or whoever else was on babysitting duty. He tried not to resent the fact that Mya insisted on two pairs tailing him. She was more paranoid than ever.

Mina supported the idea—anything to keep him safe.

“And how’s that going for you?”

He tossed back his drink, offering it to Herrin for a third time. “Better, somewhat.”

He wasn’t going to tell him that Mina was partly to blame for the improvement. Using her as a way to exercise his need for control had gone a long way in easing some of his tension. The rest of it…well, Herrin had been right. There was too much in his life that he couldn’t control. Much of his fears had arisen when Mina had fled, triggering the need for better stability.

“I must deal with things as they come, just like with fighting. I must trust that those around me are here to help, and that I can rely on them. It isn’t a concept I do well with.”

“I should think not. You’ve had no one but yourself to rely on for years, ever since you ran away to the Citadel. Mina makes you feel safe though, yes?”

“She does.” He trusted her. She’d held his life in her hands, literally, and found a way to save him. Though, it wasn’t exactly his life he feared for.

He glanced at Herrin. The ex-head wielder was a physical reminder of what could be lost. An ache built in his chest, a sudden need to see his witch.

They’d been busier than ever. Three days had passed since he’d announced their betrothal. The wedding preparations had already begun. Which reminded him⁠—

“I’d like you to stand beside me when I take my vows,” he said, voice roughening. “You and Jessin. Mina is going to have Anne and Elianna, so I wanted the numbers even.”

“Oh,” Herrin grunted. “You mean, you don’t want me there simply because you care for me.”