Page 20 of Merciless Is My Crown

“Nope. You’re stuck with me, remember?” I pressed my cheek to his chest until all I heard were his even, steady heartbeats. “Forever and ever, until we all turn into monsters. We’re family, and family stays together till the bitter end.”

“That works for me.” He kissed the top of my head. “Now get in the bath. You smell like horseshite and Corvus’s magic, and I want every trace of that fucker gone. Not a single reminder of his foulness left behind. I’ll try to find you something to wear tomorrow.”

“Maybe in the Wynters’ bedroom. Across the hall.”

I swallowed before I stepped away.

“Do you really think I’m related to these people?” I looked the room over with fresh eyes. “Lord Alaric and Lady Zephora Wynter.”

Even their names felt wrong on my tongue, slippery and strange. “There’s a painting down on the main floor I never paid any attention to before. But except for the blue eyes…I hate to even say this, but I think I look like them.”

“I saw it. They look exactly like Adele did, the one time I saw her before you were born. Your nose is different, and you don’t have an arrogant bone in your body, but I don’t think Adele’s lying.”

“Arrogant?” I choked out, but he only nodded, as if he’d only pointed out the obvious.

“I can’t believe I’m a witch.” Those words sounded surreal coming out of my mouth.

“Not just any witch.” Raz hurried to the washroom and turned off the water. “A High Barrens witch.”

“There’s a difference?”

He slanted me a look. “There are green witches, who work with herbs. Most become healers, like Bexley. There are also hedge witches and garden witches, good at potions. There are red witches, who specialize in complex spell work and blood magic and aren’t always on the side of good.” His eyes slid over to mine.

“Then there are the High Barrens witches.”

“I’m so not liking the sound of this, Raz.”

“Some call them the moon witches.” His gaze dropped to the glittering tree on my arm. “Despite the name, their magic is rooted in ancient lore that has long been forgotten. They were once spread out across all three realms, but when Carex stole his father’s throne, he drove them underground, where they honed their magic into something to be feared.”

“And you know this how?”

“People talk. And there are still plenty of witches around, though they don’t call themselves that. They’re healers and herbalists. There’s an entire section of Blackcastle filled with shops that peddle magical wares, like potions and spells.”

“Southwell. I know, that’s where Ember…the Reaper, sent her messages back and forth to Solok. That’s where Simon was.” My brow furrowed when the memory hit me. “At…Trubahn’s shop.”

Raz and I traded a look. “Clearly, Torin has ties to Southwell.”

“Might be something we can use down the line,” Raz observed, his mind already working. “Trubahn had a reputation for using dark magic, so long as he was paid well. Not the sort of ally I’d like on my side, but war is no time to be choosy.”

“Tavion didn’t like him much.”

“Of course he didn’t. He doesn’t like anyone.”

Raz set his forehead against mine and we stayed like that, pressed together, breathing in each other like we couldn’t get enough. Finally, he pulled away.

“I’ll have Tristan to heat the water, while I find you some clothes.” He stroked his hand down my back then squeezed my arse. “If we only had more time…”

“But we don’t,” I reminded him. “If we do anything tonight, we should be sleeping.”

But Raziel kissed me, slow and taunting, his tongue slipping between my lips, tracing my teeth before exploring my mouth with practiced ease, our bodies molding together as if we’d been made for each other, his hands softly tracing up the curve of my spine.

It felt so good to be touched. To be loved.

For his warm, calloused hands to brush over my skin. And I was leaning forward, falling into the singular pleasure of his caress when he pulled away.

“Keep telling yourself that, princess.” Raz gave me a wink before he disappeared through the door.

9

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