Page 90 of Merciless Is My Crown

I shoved her to her knees, panting through my nose as I debated killing her right then and there for what she’d done to Raz. Then I glanced to the corner.

Vesper had her arms wrapped around an unconscious Bella, crumpled in a ball, face white except for the black blood dribbling from the gash across her forehead.

Still breathing, thank all the gods. I met Vesper’s raging eyes then stepped aside, handing her my knife hilt first without a word.

“I think you should start praying to whatever gods you serve,” I told the bitch on her knees as she glared up at the both of us with hate-filled eyes. “Not that prayers will help,” I added before Vesper severed her throat in one ruthless slice.

The High Barrens Priestess met my gaze as fiercely as any battle-hardened warrior.

Thank you. For saving my coven and giving my daughter something to hope for.

I stumbled back, but Raz caught me, bracing his hands on my shoulders. I would have thought I’d imagined those words, but Vesper’s melodious voice still rang through my head.

Was this something all witches could do?

Right then, I resolved to ask Bella later.

“I’m fine,” I muttered when Raziel spun me around, frantically checking me over. “You’re the one who took the hardest hit.” Vesper helped her daughter sit up, the wound on Bella’s head closing beneath a layer of shimmering magic and leaving nothing but a faint white line beneath the smear of black blood.

“I suppose this eliminates the need for a trial and execution,” Bella said coldly as she glared at the witch’s corpse. “We should take them to the mountain, Mother, and let the carrion birds feast.”

Vesper brightened at the prospect.

I had to admit, I did, too.

“Custom dictates we burn our dead. Rising to the sky in ash and fire is a worthy way to meet our gods,” Bella explained quietly. “To be picked apart and consumed by the crows means our souls will never return to this realm or any other. A fate worse than death.”

“The crows it is. I’ll help you carry the bodies,” Raziel muttered.

35

ANARIA

That evening, I watched from a darkened corner in the makeshift infirmary, staring at a candlelit table where five witches hovered over a silently seething Tavion.

He was stripped to the waist, feet bare, face set in unforgiving lines while he stared stoically at the ceiling.

Fine then, the wolf could be as pissed off at me as he wanted so long as this healing spell worked. I didn’t much care if the stubborn bastard never spoke to me again. In fact, it would be preferable to the scolding—shouting, really—he’d delivered once he’d heard about Solomon’s attack.

As if he hadn’t arrived all bloody and bruised after crossing swords with three of the strongest witches of this coven. Dead now, of fucking course, and my husband’s arrogance knew no bounds.

Tristan’s wyvern had eaten two more and he was currently upstairs in his Fae form heaving his guts up in a chamber pot, probably wishing he’d shown more restraint, but…

We’d survived the attack with only a few gashes and bruises.

The witches chanted in unison, and I fought my rising panic. This reminded me too much of that altar in Torin’s room, too much of the night I’d almost been sliced apart like a sacrificial lamb.

“Anaria.” I opened my eyes to find Tavion looking straight at me, his stare raw and open and wanting. “Anaria, you don’t have to be here. You don’t have to watch.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I muttered, loosening my fingers. “Worry about yourself, will you?”

“Why should I when you’re doing a grand job of fretting for me?” he said softly as Bella shooshed him. One wink, then he went back to staring at the ceiling, a faint smile on his face.

Magic of all colors wrapped around him, a rainbow brought to life, but then he sighed, his body relaxing as if the magic felt…good.

I drifted closer, studying how they positioned their hands, the symbols they sketched in the air, the quiet words I didn’t understand. But this magic…My throat bobbed. This power tasted like storm clouds and sunshine and one delicious sip had me craving more.

“Careful,” Bella cautioned, her gaze sliding to where I’d stopped a few feet away. “We’re almost to the critical part. Don’t distract us.”

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