Unleashed Witch (The Primordial Queen #3)

25. Elzora

25

ELZORA

M y ears are ringing—a high-pitched whine that drowns out everything else.

My vision is blurry, the world around me nothing more than smudges of muted colour. The shapes move in time with the pulsing of my frantically beating heart.

Wait. No—that can’t be right. My heart isn’t beating any longer.

Or at least, I can’t hear it beating over the static filling my head.

The last thing I remember is… is panicking—my mental voices rising higher and higher as my magic warped beneath my skin, desperate to undo.

To fix?

To mould?

Oh, no… what have I done?

A figure stands in front of me, their face indiscernible, and as he touches my cheek, reality rushes in, and I gasp loudly. The room comes into focus, and I can feel that, yes, my heart is beating.

“Breathe, sunflower, breathe,” Ciar commands, his fingers cold against my skin. I frown. “Yes, I’m Jasper now. Don’t worry about that. You need to breathe.”

“I’m… breathing,” I pant out, my chest tightening with each inhale.

“Good girl,” he says, his smile gentle. The same gentle smile that Jasper often gifts me looks foreign on Ciar’s face. “Can you open a portal for me to your dad? I think we’re going to need some assistance with this one, and with the way you’ve just rocked this house, I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

My eyes widen, and I gasp, the pain increasing.

“Don’t. Just follow what I’m asking. Open a portal, sunflower, okay?”

“Okay.”

I open a portal to my dad’s office, and he immediately enters our field of vision.

“Elzora?”

“Um, we need some help,” I whisper, meeting his eyes. “I’ve done something bad, Dad, and I need your help.”

At my utterance, my vision goes dark, and I fall back onto the sofa, encased by the protective forms of Zohar and Ryes.

Voices filter in and out like I’m underwater, hearing sirens speaking above water. Beautiful voices, powerful tones… I could stay like this all day.

“…need to move her…”

Move me to your arms.

“…magicae levels are…”

What even is magicae? Is that this connection I feel to these dangerous men?

“…don’t touch her, you fucking fool…”

He can’t be a fool, not with hands this soft.

A stern voice cuts through. “The medical bay is better suited than my fucking office for this.”

Is that… my dad? Do I have one of those now?

More voices, more hands, soft, caring, smooth.

There’s a niggling feeling as I sink deeper and deeper into the water.

It’s good here, nice.

“…succumb to it…”

Everything fades.

“ O pen your eyes, Princess Elzora,” a gentle voice murmurs. I don’t recognise the woman speaking, but my magicae immediately coils beneath my skin like a startled snake, sending pins and needles through my limbs as it hunts down the intrusive magicae within us.

My power ripples out in defensive waves, rejecting their influence from our body with a force that surprises me.

It really shouldn’t—I do not take kindly to foreign attacks whilst unconscious.

“Her power is back at full.” My dad’s voice cuts through the darkness, and my eyes flutter open.

The world swims in and out of focus, my magicae still unsettled, making my vision pulse with each heartbeat. Someone passes me my glasses, and the metal feels unusually cold against my temples as I fumble to put them on.

In my hurried efforts, the frames snag in my hair, and I wince, trying to figure it out. Now that I can see properly, the familiar surroundings of the rebel’s infirmary comes into focus.

The sharp scent of antiseptic mingles with the potent tang of residual magicae—nine distinct energies tell me that my men have been anxiously pacing these floors, waiting for me to wake up.

Oh, no—what happened?

“Sit up, love.” My dad steps into view, his dark grey suit stretched tight across his biceps, the missing jacket and rumpled shirt telling of a hasty morning.

This has my hands— well, my magicae— all over it.

His bright blonde hair falls in messy layers around a face that mirrors my own, although the bright blue eyes we share are clouded with a concern that I can’t bring myself to match.

“How are you feeling?” The words are so gentle, so full of true love. Despite the foot or so of height that he has on me, there’s nothing intimidating about my dad’s appearance—there never has been. The magicae that flows between us pulses with familial warmth, washing away my lingering anxiety.

Right now, I am safe.

My dad is here, and I have no doubt he’s going to do everything in his power to fix whatever is going on.

Heat creeps into my cheeks as I meet his gaze. “Confused.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m not surprised, my love. You’ve had an eventful morning from what I’ve gathered.”

“He pieced it together all by himself and everything, ZoZo,” comes Ryes’s playful voice from Jasper’s usually stoic form. The behaviour is complete with a wink that is extremely out of place on my earth witch’s face. “Such a smart daddy you have.”

“Don’t call him daddy with my fucking lips,” Jasper snarls from within Ciar’s body, black magicae emerges from his hands, smoky tendrils curling around his fingertips as he glowers at… Ryes.

“Oh.” The flush of my cheeks spreads down my chest as realisation hits. “I did it again.”

“Breathe, dragonfly,” Mael’s husky voice murmurs, but I easily recognise the annoyance tightening his amber eyes is pure Zohar.

My water witch, trapped in Mael’s body, radiates frustration at his inability to access his usual healing abilities—powers that are as much a part of him as breathing. I can’t blame him for being annoyed.

“Yes, that’s exactly right,” Ryes’s body says. He gives me a darling smile and rises to his feet, the presence from him unmistakable as he approaches. “You’ve given us quite the scare, love.”

“I’m sorry, Rik.” My words are hesitant as I reach for his hand.

“We’re fine here now,” my dad announces, and the healers I hadn’t even noticed were still here file out of the room without protest. I flinch at their movement, my eyes dropping to look at mine and Eirik’s hands.

My dad steps closer, his bare feet coming into my vision. “Don’t worry, Elzora, everything is okay. You and your earth witch did well, bringing you here so that we can help.”

“We?” Vexus asks, and the dark tone of that singular word startles me. Etrix? No—Ciar . The dark witch turns to look at me, but whilst wearing my soul witch’s face, I’m struck cold.

Vexus looks lethal. Beautiful, powerful, and dangerous.

His runes are glowing a bright gold, powered by his own magicae, his eyes burning bright and deadly. His lithe frame radiates power as if he’s become the heart of the room itself.

“We,” my dad confirms, not backing down from Ciar’s energy. I don’t know if it’s because they’re not currently both dark witches or if my dad is choosing to rise above, but he doesn’t hesitate in turning back to face me.

“Elzora, what you’ve done… well, it’s unprecedented.”

“Real genius, your daddy,” Ryes repeats, the words clearly a taunt for Jasper.

I sigh.

“The reason we’re in this predicament at the moment is because of your inability to act like decent people,” Zohar says, and I gape at my water witch’s body. That tone, that level of righteousness… Necos .

I’m not surprised that the time witch has taken over the body of my water witch, however, I am surprised he didn’t try to heal me.

“He did,” Eirik’s voice echoes in my mind, and I have no idea if he’s Eirik or if he’s someone else.

“It’s me, love. Eirik.”

“That’s so strange,” I marvel, and Ryes’s brows draw together, and I know that he’s also considering the strangeness of it. “But Necos did try to heal me?”

“Yes. He’s quite adept at it, too—took no instruction. However, he couldn’t do enough with how drained you were.”

“Oh.”

Ryes’s eyes twinkle in amusement. It’s kind of nice to see Eirik not restrain himself when in someone else’s… mask. He brushes a kiss to the top of my head.

“Do you think it would—” Jasper’s voice immediately shuts off. “Fuck, sorry, Daddy, I was going to be inappropriate.”

“Stop calling me that,” my dad snaps, turning to glower at Ryes. “I understand you can’t be helped right now, but do yourself a favour and bite your damn tongue.”

“I don’t understand,” I whisper, beckoning Ryes to come forward. “Are you okay?”

“Without my healing abilities, I can’t help Ryes with his ADHD symptoms,” Zohar says in Mael’s husky voice. “But since Ryes doesn’t have the natural chaos of air to temper him—he’s just…”

“The complete opposite of an earth witch,” Etrix says.

“Who are you?” I ask, edging to the end of the medical bed, my eyes tracking the familiar faces that house familiar souls. It’s like looking at a painting where all the colours are right, but they’ve switched so the sky is green, and the grass is purple.

Beautiful, accurate, familiar… but with a hint of wrong at the same time.

“Oh, let's play the game again!” Ryes cheers, and it’s the strangest sight in Jasper’s body. My poor earth witch is not usually so… flamboyant. “Everyone else line up.”

There’s not a chance they’re going to be mature about it and just offer up their new faces for my ease. No, the sight before me is almost quite comical—nine bodies arranged in a row, each housing a soul that doesn’t quite fit them.

There’s some amusement and some boredom, but all nine of them are ready to play. Ugh.

“They made me do this, too,” my dad says with a dejected tone. I smother my giggles, and he grins down at me. “I was worried.”

“I didn’t mean?—”

He rolls his eyes and snaps his fingers, encasing the two of us in one of the shadow walls where we’re hidden away from the rest of the group. Ciar does this when we need privacy, and it seems my dad is more than willing to do the same thing.

“I wasn’t worried about them , Elzora,” he says gently. “Unlike your dramatic cowards, I have the utmost faith in your abilities. You couldn’t harm them with your magicae, not even accidentally.”

“No, but I have affected things so badly that if they’re called away or?—”

“We think that’s why you enforced the second… switch.”

“Body switch?” I muse over the word, tilting my head in consideration.

My dad laughs. “No, my love, you’ve done more than just switch their body’s. You’ve done a true magical fusion of sorts—you’ve melded their soul to their new body. They’re practically the other person.”

“If that’s the case, how does Ryes still have his ADHD? I know they’ve lost their abilities with their own magicae, but to shift primordium ?”

He shrugs. “I only know what the men themselves have shared. I’m sure that, soon enough, you and Vex can lock yourselves away and pour over the science behind it.” I laugh, and my dad beams at me. “I’m sure your earth witch and water witch might join.”

“You really do know them.”

My dad’s soul flashes in embarrassment, but unlike me, he doesn’t flush and alert the room. Instead, he seems to cool. “Anyway, I was concerned, Elzora, because I was worried about you . I know you’re still adapting to your maturing, but to know that you’re in such distress because of your men?—”

My magicae bursts forward in a possessive move and silences my dad before I need to hear the end of his sentence. His blue eyes widen, and he closes his mouth.

“Sorry,” I say with a heavy sigh. “We, um…”

“Love them?” A sad smile touches his lips as he tucks my hair behind my ears. “Your reactions are normal, my love. I’d have hexed the person who dared even think something negative about your mum—your magicae held back since it was me and not… well, anyone else.”

I groan, and he steps back. His soul darkens, and some of the comfort I was feeling fades with the action. It feels like every step we take comes with so much weight that we’re constantly hurtling from side to side on a tightrope, neither of us wanting to fall.

“I hate that I cause so much stress to them. The pain, the struggles, it’s all my fault.”

“Why blame yourself when you could blame fate?”

“Why would I blame a literal deity for my own misgivings?” My tone portrays my confusion as I look at my dad. “We’re adapting and doing our best, and it’s me who can’t handle it. I’m the weak link—as per usual.”

“Hearing you talk so negatively about yourself makes me so angry,” he says, not meeting my eyes as he takes another step back. The shadow circle around us seems to expand, still not letting anyone else overhear.

“Angry?”

“Would you doubt yourself so if I raised you? If your mum and dad could be there?” He shakes his head. “Would you have such little self-worth if Maggie told you that your parents died rather than that they didn’t want you?”

“I don’t know. I do know we’d not be here today like this,” I say softly. “That things happen for a reason, and I might not have had you as a child, but I have you now . That we’re bonding and growing, and we’re learning who we could be to each other.”

He turns to face me, and the current in the air is electrifying. “I know your fears, lux animula mea , but I want to hear them from your lips.”

“It’s amusing, isn’t it, that I surround myself with people who know me more than I know myself,” I murmur, closing my eyes. “I’m terrified they’re going to resent me.”

I feel arms wrap around me, and I let my dad hug me. I sob into his chest, and I soak up every single bit of comfort that he offers. His soul is so bright, so beautiful, so wholesome.

“We’re going to fix this, lux animula mea, and one day, you’ll laugh at how silly you were for ever doubting those fools,” he says, rocking us in space. “They’re so obsessed with you that if I were a better man, I’d be concerned about their walking red flags.”

My laugh is a mixture of tears, snot, and humour, and I don’t even bother to disguise it.

“Yeah, yeah, I know you see me the same way,” my dad teases. He presses the softest of kisses to the top of my head, so gently I don’t know if I’m just making it up, before pulling away slightly.

He tilts my chin up so I’m looking in his eyes. “The reason people are so drawn to you, Elzora, isn’t the power, or the title, or even your looks. They’re drawn to you because of your compassion , your kindness. You glow so brightly, my love, so don’t let stupid boys dim that sparkle.”

He groans, muttering under his breath. “Did you hear that? Fuck off, Caed.”

Caed? As in… my other dad?

Can he ? —

The air shifts, and there’s an almost ethereal presence to our shadow circle. The temperature warms, and a shiver wracks my body.

“No, Ellie, he can’t,” my grandma says, and I spin to find her standing in our shadow barrier. My magicae recognises her before my eyes do. She’s wearing a long red dress today, and the rubies in her ears seem to catch light that doesn’t exist in our shadowed space, each gem pulsing in time with the echo of a heartbeat I can feel but not hear.

Because she’s not really here. She hasn’t been for so long now, yet every time she appears, my heart forgets that truth for just a moment.

My dad’s talking to me, trying to understand what prompted my hasty reaction, but his words fade into background noise. My magicae reaches for my grandma, trying desperately to form that physical connection I clearly want—but can’t have.

I wonder when I’ll stop reacting with grief when I get to see her, when the pain at losing her will fade ever so slightly.

“He does this, sometimes,” she continues. “Talks to them—it helps keep them involved in his mind, takes some of the guilt away for getting to love you when they’re dead.”

My heart breaks for him, for the pain my dad is in every single day. “Oh.”

“Oh?” my dad echoes my words.

“You’re so powerful, Ellie, and I’m in awe at how fast you’re developing,” my grandma says, beaming at me. “But I’m here with a message for you today.”

“What message?”

“What message?” my dad repeats before dropping the barrier around us.

“It’s one I need you to tell your dad, my darling,” she says, taking my hands in hers. I squeeze, wishing I could feel her properly, feel her warmth. “He needs to go back to that night.”

“What night?”

She shakes her head. “He’ll know, darling. I can’t… I can’t tell you more.”

I sigh. “Sometimes, it frustrates me how much you’ve kept from me.” I squeeze her hands once more. “I love you, grandma.”

“I love you more, Ellie. Tell him—you need to understand before it’s too late.”

“Before what is too late?” I demand, but, of course, she disappears.

“Oh, yeah, this happens all the time,” Etrix says with an indifferent shrug. “The dead are needy fuckers, and Ellie’s too nice to tell them to piss off.”

“Mael!” I snap, glaring at the light witch. He smirks at me, cocking a brow. “That was my grandma— she’d have lectured you for your swearing.”

“Trust me, baby, Maggie had a bigger tolerance for my charm than you do.”

I roll my eyes and look at my nervous dad. “It’s a message for you.”

“For me ?”

I wrap my arms around myself. “Yes. You need to go back to that night.”

“That night.”

“Is he just going to echo everything she says?” Ryes mutters in Jasper’s dry drawl, and there’s a bunch of laughter from the others.

“Yes. We need to understand before it’s too late.” I laugh at the look on his face. “Trust me, that’s exactly how I feel. They’re so cryptic.”

“I have no idea which night she could be referring to,” he says thoughtfully. “If it were someone else… I don’t know. Margo was shrewd, and her warning, whilst important , is a bit too vague.”

“Think about it, and we’ll have a look into it,” Zohar says, and it takes me a second to remember that he’s Necos.

“Okay, who is who?” I say, looking around at them. “I’m tired now and want to get everyone back to normal so I can nap.”

“Nap?” Zohar demands, reaching out to feel my forehead. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Necos, check her temperature. Everything fucking feels hot right now.”

“The beauty of being a fire witch,” Mael says, waggling Etrix’s brows.

“Yeah, well, it’s stupid.”

“Strong retort, Zo,” I tease, resting my head on his shoulder, trying to ignore the differences between Mael and Zohar’s frames. “You okay?”

“I think I’m ready to be me again.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, and he shakes his head.

“Don’t misunderstand—this is pretty sick, and I’d love to explore fire and even air and see what I could do with those.”

“See, I had this thought that learning how they use their powers, and what they do could benefit me once I’m back to being, well, me ,” Necos says.

“Vexus?” I murmur, looking into Necos’s brown eyes.

He nods. “Yes! Necos’s magicae is not as fun as Eirik’s—ignore that, princeling.”

“I can’t unhear the fact that I’m superior to time itself,” Eirik retorts, winking at me. It’s a natural reaction in Ryes’s body, and my elemental witch is clearly at home there.

“I agree with that,” Jasper says with a nod. “I’d have preferred to be the air witch because the mind abilities would be handy right now.”

“Well, don’t worry, Ciar, I liked playing with the shadows,” Etrix says, wiggling his fingers at his equilstrilax.

“It’s hard to not prefer the shadows when the other option is a rudimentary turn of the elements ,” Vexus says with a smirk. He’s still glowing a magnificent gold, and my heart is so happy .

For the most part, my men are all a lot more content.

Relaxed, even.

It’s less pressure on me knowing this.

“Anyway, little love, I think the reason you’re so exhausted is that your magicae is still being used to keep us in this state without causing any harm to us,” Vexus says. My cute nickname sounds so strange from Necos’s lips, and I can’t look at him properly.

“I think if you cast to return us back to our own bodies, we’ll go a lot easier this time,” Necos adds, his familiar calculated tone strange coming from Zohar’s lips. I meet Zohar’s dark blue eyes—or rather Necos’s consciousness peering out from behind them—and see the same certainty I hear in his voice.

They have faith that I can do this, and that’s enough for me to agree. Closing my eyes, I rest against Mael’s body, just in case, and beg my magicae to work with me.

“ Revoco ,” I command, my magicae rushing through my veins, determined to work with me to fix what we’ve done. I fling my arms out wide, gold energy flying towards each of my men. “Revoco!”

With all my power charging around us, I keep my intent clear: to recall the souls to the correct place.

The air crackles with potential, the powerful magicae that I can wield makes my hair stand on end, my skin tingle with anticipation.

Nine distinct streams of power—each a different shade, a different texture, a different song—twist through the air. They weave around them like ribbons, and for a moment, everyone freezes. Then the streams pull tight, and I watch as essence separates from borrowed flesh—each soul rises as coloured mist.

Nobody else can see this—not even Vexus—as bright souls float in the air. It’s beautiful, witnessing something so... intimate . I brush my tears back as each of my mates finds their true home once more.

The room fills with groans and grunts as souls snap back into them. Ryes and Necos stumble, adjusting to their own weight again. Jasper shakes his arms as Etrix taps his feet as they both get used to their own way of moving.

Mael’s arms tighten their hold on me, and it’s so clear that he’s my possessive fire witch once more. Vexus’s runes flare gold before settling to their usual shimmer, and he beams in joy.

Weirdly, it’s Ciar’s shadows who seem most pleased with the return as eight shadow men dance around him in welcome.

“Oh, thank fuck!” Zohar gasps, charging across the room to steal me from Mael. His movements are pure water witch again —fluid, graceful, natural . “You’re a wonder, and I have fucking missed being a water witch.”

I relax into his comforting hold and feel the coolness of his magicae explore me, healing my slight headache and boosting my energy levels ever so slightly. There’s a lot of hustle and bustle happening, but I’m content to stay out of it as I make sure I truly did fix things.

I move around the room, sneakily like a spy, as I examine the souls of all of my men. Everyone is in the right place, and everyone is happy about it… well, everyone except Jasper.

His mood has soured, and it’s clear that his soul is hurting. I wish… I wish he could trust me to help with it, but I know that even if I tried, he’d be resentful towards me after the chaos of today.

There’s something about him, something different to the man I first met. He’s always been snarky, always been cynical.

But right now, he seems dark.

Toxic, even.

Not to me, not to those he cares for, but to himself.

I don’t like it, and whether my earth witch likes it or not, I’m going to do something about it.

What good am I as a soul witch, if one of my bonded is in agony because his mind is at war with himself?