Page 26 of Queen of the Crimson Throne

“Don’t talk about your high queen like that,” I all but growled.

A feline smile spread on her porcelain face, alighting her upturned eyes. “So the rumors are true, she does have you wrapped around her gilded finger.” I ignored her comment, instead directing my attention toward what I needed from her.

“Do you have the Goddess’s spellbook in your possession?”

If she was surprised by my inquisition she didn’t show it, she only blinked at me. “What does a vampire want with a book like that?”Isn’t that the golden question?

“It’s not for me, I need to find it for someone else.”

She tapped a long black nail on the book in front of her. “The answer will cost you.”

“I’ll pay whatever price you ask.” My previous witch scar burned under her stare.

“My answers don’t come at such an easy price.”

“I don’t care, I need that book.”

“Stupid boy.” I bristled under the name, the witch couldn’t be more than a few years older than I.

“My price is linking my life to yours.”

“What?”

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, her dark eyes gleaming. “I will complete a spell that will bind our lives together. How else do you propose I appear this young? I have lived many lives, boy. Each one runs into the next as the last one comes to pass. I never know when the current life I live within will expire, I like to keep souls ready.” My stomach soured. How many lives had this female lived? How many Fae had tied their lives to hers? Was I stupid to consider tying my life to hers as well?

It must have taken a special kind of magic to link lives together. An unnatural kind of magic. That must be why Lennox had been so uneasy. Whatever kind of magic this witch Scribe practiced wasn’t natural.

“So, boy, what will it be?” She tapped her nails impatiently. Every instinct in me warned against saying yes. Even my magic, which had been oddly quiet this entire time, was now rioting inside me. I should say no. I could find another way.

The image of Lennox’s face in the dining room back in Alethens flashed to the forefront of my mind. The way she had tried to hide her hurt when she realized she was going to have to marry me…

I knew how much she valued the choice of who she married. I wouldn’t be the one to take it from her. I would do anything to give her back this choice. Even if it meant tying my life to this witch.

I looked up, meeting the witch’s onyx eyes, her piercing gaze sending a shiver down my spine.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

The smile that spread across her face chilled my veins.

“I’ll enjoy living your days, vampire.” She held out a perfectly smooth hand, not a wrinkle in sight. “Give me your palm.” I pulled my arm back as she reached for it.

“On one condition.” The witch frowned disapprovingly. “IfI’m doing something so dramatic as tying my life to yours, I want more than only your help finding the spellbook.”

The witch considered my counter. “You get three questions.”

“Deal.”

“Now hand me your palm.” Hesitantly, I gave her my hand, she turned it over, examining the lines crossing it, running the tip of her nail over the lines.

“Hmmm—” she mused. “It’s unclear how many years I’ll get from you.”

“You can see how long I’ll live by examining my palm?”

“Sometimes, but not always. Your markings are clear, but you have the tellings of both living a long life and a short-lived one.” A shiver wracked my body. “Your future is unclear, yet to be decided it seems. Interesting.” She tapped her nail against my palm.

The words Hecate spoke to Lennox and me those months ago floated into my mind. Maybe this was related to the path of light and dark she had talked about. Perhaps my lifespan was linked to each of those paths. I—I couldn’t consider that now. I had far greater worries than how long I would live. All that mattered was getting Lennox out of this marriage.

The witch Scribe drew a small dagger from the pouch at her side, not at all surprised by the sight of the blade. I was all too familiar with witch magic now and the need to bind it with blood. She drew a precise slice over the lines crossing the center of my hand. I winced against the sting.

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