Page 6 of Witch's Fate

Wariness lit her eyes.

“Your alternative is death and the destruction of your village.” It’d been so long since he’d negotiated with a woman, since he’d had more contact with one than a quick fuck, that he knew he was rusty. He should feel like a bastard for putting her in this position—for manipulating her like this—but his conscience was long dead.

“Is this why you took the dagger? For this favor?”

“No. But it’s a nice side effect.”

She scowled. Desire surged through him. He wanted to yank her to him and kiss her, to feel her soft lips. His hands trembled with the need.

“What’s your answer?” he asked, his voice gruff. “Death or a favor?”

Once, he’d have vowed that the favor would be better than death. And it would be—that was certain. But as an Oath Breaker, he could vow nothing or fate and magic would conspire to see it broken. He could tell her how delicious the favor he begged of her would be for both of them, but he could not promise.

He’d learned to be noncommittal. To nod to indicate agreement and to suggest that it would all go as planned—but never to promise.

Indecision flashed in her gaze as she bit her full lip. At the sight, his shaft pulsed. Desire coiled low, a deep, familiar want that was specific to her. There was something stronger about this need. Surreal. Anytime he’d seen her over the last four hundred years, he’d felt it. Only this time, he was touching the soft skin of her wrist. He was only inches from her full lips.

He could have her. If…

“You’re running out of time. You’re already late.” He added fuel to her fear with no remorse. He’d make her agree. “I’m stronger than the High Witches, but only as individuals. Together, they are too strong, even for me. If we’re too late, any leniency will be gone.”

And they’d need that leniency. This was a risk, even for him. His magic—and brute strength—could defeat a few of the High Witches when they combined their strength. But not all. Not when they were together, as they would be when the tribute was presented. They were the most powerful coven in the world, fueled by a dark magic that took its power not only from the aether, as all Mytheans did, but from destruction as well.

“Fine. A favor. Any favor.”

“Excellent.” He rubbed his thumb against the tender skin of her wrist. “We’ll go now. We’ll aetherwalk, I presume?” Teleporting via the ephemeral substance that connected earth and the afterworlds was a skill that they both possessed, but as he didn’t know where the High Witches lived, she’d have to take them both.

She nodded.

“Then lead the way.”

She closed her eyes and the aether pulled at them.

2

Sofia opened her eyes at the edge of the dark forest. Enormous, leafless trees reached for the dark sky, their branches angry claws that threatened to sweep her up. She shuddered.

Kitty hissed. She hated this place.

The entrance point to the High Witches’ afterworld was freaking creepy. It was always night, the sky black and ominous. A sickly orange moon illuminated the haunted forest ahead of her and reflected off the eyes of black owls who sat in the trees, watching.

“Are we in an afterworld?” Malcolm’s rough murmur drifted over her. His accent was the same as she remembered—that of a refined English gentleman. But he wasn’t one.

The owls shifted nervously at the sound of Malcolm’s voice. As if they sensed his power. She glanced toward him. His dark sweater and trousers blended well with the forest, but it was his golden eyes and almost cruel handsomeness that most suited this place.

No, he wasn’t the man she remembered. But she wanted him all the same. The desire thrummed within her like a living thing, unwilling to be stifled by her anger or fear. Not even by the memory of their past. He’d made her feel like her heart had been torn out of her chest, but the worst of her pain was buried by the years.

One by one, the owls began to take off, their wings beating the air, as if they feared remaining in his presence. Magical beings were good at sensing a threat. She was no exception. The way that Malcolm blended so well with this evil place made her heart race. Combined with his height and the muscled power of his body—not to mention the immense magic that radiated from him—she couldn’t help but take a step backward.

If he noticed, he said nothing.

“Yes,” she said. “The High Witches are too conspicuous to live on earth. They destroyed the souls who lived on this afterworld long ago and took it for themselves.”

She’d been raised on the terrifying stories of the High Witches’ attack on this afterworld. The nightmarish tales spun by her mother for as long as she could remember kept her fearful and in line. If the High Witches could destroy all the souls who’d come here after death—Sofia had no idea what religion had created this afterworld—then they would have no trouble destroying her village.

“Where are they?” Malcolm asked.

“We’re at the edge of the haunted forest. Their stronghold is on the other side. This is the only place I’m allowed to aetherwalk to.”

---