Page 12 of Witch's Fate

If she couldn’t get the Grimoire and pay off the High Witches, she’d fail these people—her friends, family, and everyone she held dear.

3

After a great force shoved Malcolm into the aether, he opened his eyes to see that he stood in his library, the soaring walls of books as familiar as his own face. Heart pounding, his gaze flicked around the room, searching for Sofia.

She was nowhere to be seen.

Did the High Witches still have her? Fear sent an icy chill across his skin.

But no, the High Witch had gestured to both of them when she’d sent them home.

He aetherwalked immediately to Bruxa’s Eye. His heart pounded as he looked up and down the quiet, moonlit street. The buildings were ramshackle—like a Wild West town in the middle of a jungle—and the boardwalk under his feet kept him out of the muddy street.

The roar of a crowd sounded at the end of a street, but he caught a slight hint of her distinct, floral scent coming from the other direction. He headed away from the crowd and saw her seconds later, standing at the end of the street.

As he approached, she drew her wand and transformed herself into an old Crone, a black cloak draping her shoulders. Kitty was black as pitch against the fabric.

“Don’t bother trying to hide,” he said.

“I’m not hiding from you, idiot.” She nodded to the street behind him. “There are people coming.”

He spun around to see two men approaching. Their gait was unsteady and they were arguing good-naturedly. Drunk. A shifter and a vampire, from the look of them. He’d been so distracted by his need to find her that he hadn’t even heard them coming.

Disgraceful.

They stopped abruptly a dozen feet from Sofia. The shifter’s green eyes widened and he bowed low. “Honored one.” A sign of respect.

The vampire bowed low as well and they made their way past.

Of course. He’d forgotten, because he’d never seen her in her Crone form.

Like many witches, Bruxas believed in the Maiden, the Mother, and the Crone. The Crone was the most powerful. The Protectors of Bruxa’s Eye always appeared as the Crone when in public.

“Don’t you hate hiding yourself like this?” he asked.

“Of course. It’s tiring and I can’t have a normal life.” Her voice was bitter. “But it’s tradition. The threat to our village is real, and I’m the first line of defense. People expect this. I’m strongest in this form. As the Protector, it’s my duty to present my strongest front.”

The words sounded memorized. She’d inherited this role from her mother. No doubt it’d been drilled into her. But hetoo knew something about the dictates of family expectations. They’d been half the reason he’d given her up.

He’d never known anyone like Sofia. She was the loveliest woman he’d ever met—small and curvy with golden skin. He hated that she covered that up. But she was fierce, and she was committed to protecting her village. Was willing to do anything to save it. He’d have to use that to his advantage.

He grasped her arm and aetherwalked them back to his library. He used his magic to remove her enchantment so that she looked like herself again and wore her normal clothing.

She jerked out of his grasp.

She glanced down at herself and scowled. “Bastard.”

Kitty hissed. Her fat little familiar glared at him out of its one good eye. The other was squinty, just as he remembered it. He’d always liked Kitty and Kitty had liked him. Until he’d chosen becoming a warlock over a life with Sofia.

As he’d expected seeing her in his home warmed a cold part of his soul. This room was better with her in it. Brighter, somehow. The firelight from his ever-burning hearth gleamed off her dark hair. He’d always loved her hair—the way it hung in shining curls down her back. He’d always loved everything about her.

“Why the hell did you bring me back here?”

“I want you here.” What he’d done was fucked up—he knew it was—but he’d wanted to see her again. He was sick of being alone and trying to forget her. Seeing his brother with his new mate had revived memories of Sofia. Had revived his unslakable desire for her. “I wanted you to come to me. So I took what you needed.”

“You manipulative ass!” Rage flared hot in Sofia’s belly as she watched Malcolm shrug carelessly.

“It worked,” he said. His gaze burned with something unidentifiable.

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