Page 136 of Black Sea

Queen Aloiv garnered the courage to frame my cheeks with her hesitant hands and searched my gaze. “Not entirely,” she said after a few seconds, visibly relieved. She slid her fingers along my biceps, then gave them a resolute, meaningful squeeze. “There is still good in you, Princess. But if you let him get you on his side, it will be the end.”

My expression darkened. “I will never choose to follow him.”

The woman let her arms fall with a sigh. “Yet in that temple, you did not kill him, by your own admission.”

A groove deepened between my brows. “I tried.”

“You couldn’t,” she countered, almost in tolerance.

A suffocating silence fell over the hall, broken only by the music of the flames dancing in the braziers.

My father straightened on the throne and drew a solemn breath. “Can you help her?”

I impulsively took the Queen of the Witches’ hands, my face set with both determination and distress. “Please. He can’t win. I can’t let him.”

She exhaled loudly through her nose and withdrew her hands, stepping aside to speak to my parents as well. “There are only two things we could try,” she said austerely.

“As in?” my brother asked, with a veil of both hope and circumspection.

The sovereign watched me intently. “We might attempt to break your bond with the Abomination.”

I tried to keep a straight face. However, the evil within me rebelled ferociously. “How?” I demanded.

“Forcing your union with another elf.”

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“You’re crazy, witch, if you think I’ll let you do it,” I hissed, suppressing the urge to seize her by the throat and squeeze until I felt her tracheal cartilage shatter under my fingers.

This time, my family did not react with fear to my grim tone. In fact, they showed the woman the same disapproval as I did.

“What you propose, Queen Aloiv,” Father said in a dark voice, “goes against all our principles and the Spirits’ will.”

“It would be like rape,” Mother said, uttering the last word with indignation.

The Queen of the Witches’ expression grew even harsher. “It is the only way to remove the Abomination’s claws from your daughter.”

I placed my hand on my belly with a fierce yet distressed grimace, fingers flexing as if mimicking the talon of a hawk that wanted to gut me.

I felt Araton’s inquiring gaze on me. “Has it ever been done before?” he asked no one in particular.

“Of course not!” Mother exclaimed, lurching upright and moving toward the eastern windows. “It’s a sacrilege!”

My brother clenched his jaw, clearly suppressing the urge to go after her and comfort her, and focused on Queen Aloiv. “So how do you know it will work?”

“Because we will add our magic to your ritual,” she replied confidently, and her wooden and ivory bracelets lightly snapped against each other as she extended an arm to indicate the elders.

The very idea of being touched by their power again sent me a wave of nausea.

As taut as a bowstring, my father took a long moment to peer over at me, as if trying to recognize me beneath a hideous disguise. “Will my daughter be in any danger during this . . . procedure?”

The Queen of the Witches’ expression turned grave. “There are risks.”

Araton held onto the top of our mother’s throne with one hand, tapping his fingers on it. “Such as?”

The woman took a deep breath, glanced briefly at my mother, then looked back at my father. “If we are mistaken and the princess isn’t under a spell that makes her believe she is the enemy’s mate, breaking their union and binding her to another elf could cause such trauma that she might fall into an eternal sleep.”

I almost couldn’t stop a scornful laugh.