Page 116 of The Witch Queen

“We’ll find you rooms in the palace. You can stay as long as you need,” I promise, and that sends her over the edge, sobs erupting out of her. I freeze, unsure what to do and uncomfortable with the emotions of others, but Fionn steps to her and wraps his massive arm around her shoulders, walking her a few paces away.

Shock must show on my face, for Thorne laughs and says, “Underneath that massive frame is a heart of gold.”

I nod as I survey the house and all the gore around us. Most of the rebels at the manor either died or fled. The only people remaining are children and those forced here either by a family member or their own desperation. Thorne took over communicating with them, seeing the way I slumped after the battle and knowing I needed him. He told them that if they abandoned the rebels, there would be no punishment for them, and his words felt right. We still need to hunt down those who escaped whoarecomplicit, but we can deal with that another day.

“Krantz said the mole is the person I least expect,” I whisper to Thorne, unable to keep my worries hidden from him any longer.

“What do you think that means? Could it be Nemesia, after all?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I’ve made so many missteps in judgment, I don’t know what to think.” He threads his fingers in mine.

“We’ll figure it out together,” he says, eyes bright. I place a soft kiss on his lips before he gives me another tight hug and places his chin on the top of my head. “I love you,” he whispers as he rubs soothing circles on my back. I want to say it back, want to aerstep us to a private corner of the woods and show him how much he means to me as I finally whisper the words that have been on the tip of my tongue for weeks, well before he admitted his own feelings to me. But Silene still lies unconscious before us, and we need to get her to safety. There will be time now that we’ve cut off the head of the rebels. Plenty of time for me to tell Thorne how I feel and show him he’s well and trulymine.I give him one last squeeze before releasing him.

“Let’s go,” I say loudly enough for Fionn to hear me. Thorne lifts Silene’s body gently from the ground, then nods at me. Fionn and Allyssia return to our side, and I aerstep us back to the palace.

Laurel

The witch goddess made the ultimate sacrifice to save her people and the world she and her sisters had so lovingly created. Despite the light bringer begging her not to do it, not to sacrifice herself, she had no choice but to slice their forearms. She used the blood of herself and her beloved to end the Great War before she lost herself to the brutality of her magic.

Unknown Story, Unknown Origin

We arrive in the healer’s quarters in the palace by my design, where Silene is immediately handed off to a group of powerful fae I trust to keep her alive and safe. After the healers remove the iron arrowhead from her stomach, Thorne, six healers, and myself weave magic over her body to stabilize her. It doesn’t wake her, but it returns her skin tone to her usual golden hue. She looks as if she could be sleeping. I’m a bit surprised that with so many of us I’m not able to heal her after I did it with Thorne so easily, but it must be because Thorne is so much more powerful than her and his own magic aided in the process. I want to immediately go get more thayar concentrate and use my enhanced magic to help her, but even I know that isn’t wise considering how much magic I’ve expended today and the exhaustion I feel. To do that again, I need to be fully in control—I can’t risk another moment like at the Battle of Moormyr. But after seeing the way the aether returned to the ground after channeling so much of it to defeat Krantz, I’m feeling relieved. For the first time in a very long time, I have hope that maybe the declining thayar isn’t my fault after all.

After assuring the healers I’ll return to help heal Silene myself as soon as I’m able, I aerstep Thorne, Fionn, and Allyssia to the Velmaran apartment so we can clean up and regroup. My body protests with every step I take, craving a nap and a cup of tea to celebrate our victory. Fionn and Allyssia move near the fireplace to speak in low voices, so Thorne pulls me into his room. The second the door closes, he’s wrapped me in his arms before I can even take my shoes off.

“You’re so sexy when you fight,” he whispers into my hair before pulling it aside and kissing my neck. The words lack their usual flirtatious zing, and I know he’s trying to use the irreverence to help us both decompress. I let him make his way across my collarbone, up the other side of my neck, and to my mouth. He parts my lips with his tongue, devouring me with his full lips.

“Mmmmm,” I moan. “You’re pretty sexy yourself. You’ve officially completed your mission as my ally, princeling. You helped take down the rebellion. Guess it’s time to send you back to Velmara.” He laughs deeply, the noise vibrating my chest from his proximity. It sends a delicious warmth through me.

“And how does it feel, witchling? To have formally allied with me and to have taken out one of your enemies?” he asks as he continues to find areas of my body to touch and soothe. After today, we both need the comfort of physical touch, assuring each other that our mate is well and whole.

I pretend to think for a moment, scrunching my nose, and it brings his lips back to mine once more. When we finally part, I whisper, “It feels like this.” Then I wrap us both in warm and calming light, using tendrils to caress his face and backside, earning me a low hum of pleasure. Thorne moves us to the bed in a flash and is pulling my shirt above my arms when a prickling on the back of my neck gives me pause. It’s the same feeling I had when we were in the laundry room at the rebel stronghold, like someone’s entering the mist. Another check in tells me all is still well. But I’m not convinced.

“Wait,” I say, and Thorne immediately releases my shirt.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, concern crossing his eyes.

“I don’t know, exactly. Something’s off in the palace.” His brow furrows as I close my eyes to try and understand the uneasiness I’m feeling.

Someone bangs frantically on the apartment door. Our eyes lock for only a second before we’re both up and moving back through the sitting room. Thorne answers, revealing a harried Carex, face ashen and body trembling. Tension visibly coils in Thorne’s shoulders, so I intervene before Thorne kills him with the same brutal efficiency he displayed today.

“What do you want, Carex? How did you get out of your rooms? You were supposed to be under guard,” I demand. I don’t want Thorne to kill Carex—not yet, at least—but neither am I pleased to see him.

“Your Majesty, you must come quickly. It’s—I can’t believe—how—why—You must hurry,” he sputters, sounding like a madman, his eyes wild.

I place my hand over his arm to calm him, shock and worry churning low in my gut. Thorne takes up a defensive stance beside me. “Carex, tell me what’s wrong,” I urge at the same time Thorne hisses, “Spit it out.” The magic of the aether-voice lingers, though from which of us it came I’m unsure of.

“King Mazus… is...here. In the throne room,” he finally says, and all the color drains out of Thorne’s features as my heart drops out of my chest.

“That shouldn’t be possible,” I whisper, and Carex shakes with fear.

“How did this happen?” Thorne barks out.

Carex only shakes his head. “I don’t know. Admon came to my room and asked me to accompany him somewhere. I swear I didn’t want to go, didn’t want to disobey your orders. But Admon insisted. Said it was urgent. Then he led me to the throne room, where Mazus already was, sitting on your throne. Then Admon told me to find you.”

Suspicion twists through my gut like a serpent. I’m worried this is a trap Carex has laid. But if it’s not a ruse… The risk is too great to ignore. Krantz’s words echo through my mind, and a sinking feeling enters my gut.The one you least expect.You’ll find out soon enough.I meet Thorne’s eyes, and I can feel through the bond that we’ve come to the same conclusion.

“Stay here,” Thorne says to me with a voice that once again flickers with the aether-voice, but I ignore it as I let out a haughty laugh.

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