Magic is sentient.
“I was angry and jaded at my power,” Mara says, “and at the mate who had begun to act odd and distant and spent long hours among my sacred oaks. I should’ve known. There were times when my mate seemed sinister to me.
“And then, when the sleeping women began returning to us in caskets, and we began laying them out in the greenhouses, the Green Man would often visit them. I mistook his fascination for concern, never once guessing he was resp—” her voice breaks, “—responsible.
“And so I buried my jaded emotions in warm bodies and beautiful celebrations. Even as my oaks died and my people went missing and my mate slipped farther from my reach, I pretended everything was fine.
“I became cruel.”
Her gaze holds mine captive. “And this is how my great and unlikely story ends—my soulmate dead, my lands poisoned, and an imposter in my bed who seeded his undead army in my sacred wood.” She shakes her head. “Blasphemous,” she hisses under her breath.
Grimacing, she adds, “I lived with him for ten years.”
I try not to shiver at that. She spent the last decade alongside a creature who raped thousands of women and killed who knows how many more. She called him her mate.
“Are you going after him?” she asks me.
We will hunt him down and carve up his flesh.
I nod. Even now my vengeance surges.
“He took my sister from me,” Mara says. “He took my soulmate from me. If I could kill him myself, I would, but alas, I’m dying.”
She reaches out and takes my hand, squeezing it tightly. Her eyes blaze. “Find that thing, and end him, once and for all.”
I walk away from the throne room even as my audience streams back inside. Someone calls out to me, and I’m sure I’m making a mess of royal protocol.
Considering the day I’ve had, I think I’m entitled to give responsibilities the middle finger.
My emotions are hard to unravel. I didn’t think I had it in me to like Mara Verdana after everything she put me through, but I was wrong. I do like her when it’s too late for us to ever be friends.
Like a ghost, I slip towards my chambers.
Once I’m inside, the door, firmly shut behind me, I kick off my shoes and crawl into bed.
It’s another one of those Hail Mary days, only this time, there’s no Bargainer to drive my pain away.
Tomorrow isn’t going to be any easier.
I squeeze my eyes shut, my entire body heavy. I don’t think I could move if I tried.
Never want to leave.
It takes no more than ten minutes for Temper to find me. I hear her bang about as she enters the room. She sets something aside then crawls onto the bed, sliding beneath the sheets.
Her arms snake around me, and she holds me close.
“It’s alright, babe,” she whispers.
I shake my head. “It’s not.”
Temper exhales. “You’re right. It’s not. But you’re not alone. I’ll always be here for you.”
That makes a tear slip out. “Des promised me the same thing.”
The liar.
My best friend brushes my hair back, leaning over me to get a good look at my face.
“It’s sweet that you’re worried about me,” she says, “but you and I both know my ass is too evil to kill.”
A laugh slips out, and she joins in.
“I think mine might be too,” I admit.
“Hell yeah, that’s right,” Temper agrees. “You’re a badass bitch when you want to be.”
Temper’s arm tightens around me. “Callie, you and I have been through some shit over the last decade. You don’t need to be strong with me. Just let it out.”
I don’t know if I needed to hear that, or if Temper’s words were simply the straw that broke the camel’s back, but I do give in and cry—if you can call it that.
You cry with your eyes, but I’m not just crying—I’m sobbing and shaking and heaving.
Temper rubs my back and holds me as I fall apart, and she might literally be the best friend anyone anywhere has ever had. I mean, her boyfriend is comatose right now, and she’s forcing herself to be strong so that I can break down.
Minutes, then hours tick by, and every so often, people knock on the door, their voices mentioning things like swearing me in, or dealing with sensitive matters. The only time Temper leaves my side is to turn them away.
“You want to get singed?” Temper threatens one now.
A pause, then some mumbling.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Fuck off.” She slams the door shut and comes back to my side.
At some point in the evening, the sorceress admits to me that she might have feelings for Malaki. She cries a little with me then, and now I’m holding her just as much as she’s holding me.
The two of us fall asleep like that, commiserating over our heartache and comforting each other just as we’ve always done.
Chapter 38
“Missing your mate?”
I spin at that voice, my skin brightening and my wings manifesting.
The Thief of Souls reclines on his throne, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.
“I will gut you—” I stalk towards him, my claws out in an instant.
Drink his screams.
Laugh as we watch him die.
He raises an eyebrow. “I’d like to see you try.”
My wings move, pulling me into the air. I descend on him like a Fury, my legs straddling his, my claws bared.
The Thief catches my wrists.
“What was it you said the last time you dreamed of me … ?” He pretends to search his memory. “Oh yes—‘If you want to hurt me, you’re going to have to try harder.’
“Tell me, enchantress, have I tried hard enough?”
I shriek, fighting against his hold on my wrists. I want to rip away that smug smile of his.
“Damn you!” My voice is raw with fury and pain. An angry tear slips out. “I will fucking make you feast on your own heart for what you did.”
“That’s awfully vivid. You’re going to have to carve it out of my chest first, and—” He glances at the wrists he holds captive, “it doesn’t look like that’ll happen anytime soon.”
I yank against his grip, my teeth gritted.
The Thief resettles himself between my legs. “My, is this intimate.”
“Where is Des?” I demand. Glamour fills my voice, but it does nothing to pry the truth loose from the Thief.
“If you want your soulmate,” he says, his voice low, “you’ll have to come and get him.” He jerks on my wrists, pulling me in close.
The Thief leans in and licks my bared throat. “For a price,” he says, using words he stole from the Bargainer.
I go feral in his arms, bucking wildly and scratching anything I can.
The Thief easily tosses me to the floor in front of him.
I’m back on my feet in an instant, but that’s all it takes for the ground to split and a cage to literally grow up from the floor. The black bars rise around me, arching overhead until they meet.
“I think you’ve forgotten that inside a dream, I can do anything.” To emphasize his point, my outfit—a wispy, pale blue dress—begins to vanish inch by inch.
“I can humiliate you,” he says, as the dress’s hem climbs up my legs and the straps slide off my shoulders, revealing my breasts.
I scowl at the Thief, too angry to be embarrassed. Distractedly, I push the straps back in place, covering my chest once more.