Chapter 21 #2
“If Zari has taken my mate,” I continue in that same quiet tone, “if she has lain so much as a finger on Astra, I will burn the entire Tashina family to the ground. I’ll make their deaths so brutal that people will tell stories of this day for generations.”
Seth opens his mouth to argue, but I cut him off.
“She thinks she knows me. Thinks she understands what she’s dealing with.” A cold smile curves my lips. “She thinks I’m a civilized prince who follows the rules and plays political games.”
The witch makes a small noise that sounds like fear. Good. He should be afraid.
“But she made one critical error in judgment,” I say, starting to walk again. “She touched what’s mine.”
We move through the darkening forest in silence after that. Each step takes me further from the inn where I last held my mate, further from the place where her scent still lingers. But each step also brings me closer to the moment when I can start hunting.
The bond between us still pulses in my chest, telling me that she’s alive, that she is still breathing somewhere in this world. But underneath that reassurance, I can feel something else through our connection. Fear. Confusion. The sharp edge of panic.
My hands clench into fists. Whatever they’re doing to her, whatever games they’re playing, she’s suffering for it. And that suffering is going to be repaid tenfold.
An hour passes. Then another. The witch guides us through dense undergrowth and over rocky terrain, following some invisible path that only he can sense. My patience wears thinner with every passing minute.
Finally, he stops at the edge of a small clearing. “Here,” he says, already beginning to weave the portal spell. “The wards are weak enough here that I should be able to break through.”
This time, the magic holds. Golden light spirals in the air, expanding into a shimmering gateway that shows the familiar stone walls of the capital’s portal chamber.
“After you, Your Highness,” the witch says, stepping aside.
I pause at the threshold, looking back in the direction we came from. Somewhere out there, my mate is waiting for me. Somewhere out there, the woman who dared to take her thinks she has won.
Zari has no idea what’s coming for her.
The portal closes behind us with a sound like breaking glass, and I’m already moving toward the exit. Seth jogs to keep up with my long strides.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“To pay a visit to the Tashina estate.”
“Lucian, wait—”
But I’m done waiting. I’m done being patient and diplomatic and reasonable. Someone took my mate, and they’re about to learn exactly why that was the worst mistake of their miserable lives.
By the time this is over, Zari will understand what it truly means to cross the future king. And if she has harmed one hair on Astra’s head, she will pray for the mercy of a quick death.
A mercy I have no intention of granting.
Blood coats my hands. My arms. The front of my shirt where arterial spray caught me as I tore out that guard’s throat with my bare fingers.
The Tashina estate’s main hallway is a gallery of carnage. Bodies litter the marble floor—servants who tried to flee, guards who thought their loyalty meant something. The white stone walls are painted red now, abstract patterns that speak of violence and rage.
I step over a corpse, boots squelching in the spreading pools. The metallic scent of blood mingles with the acrid stench of burned magic. Some of the witches believed their magic could stop me and tried to fight back. Their efforts are scattered across the floor in charred remains.
“Where is she?” My voice echoes through the vast space, flat and emotionless.
The handful of survivors huddle against the far wall. Kitchen staff mostly, judging by their simple clothes. Their eyes are wide with terror, tracking my every movement like prey watching a predator. But their mouths stay sealed.
“I asked a question.”
One of them—a young maid with blood splattered across her apron—meets my gaze for a moment before looking away, her lips pressed together in a thin line.
I advance another step. Glass crunches under my heel where I shattered a decorative mirror against someone’s skull. “Lady Zari. Where is she?”
Silence. Absolute, defiant silence.
The bond in my chest pulses with Astra’s fear, her pain. Every second I waste here is another second she suffers. Another second that pathetic bitch thinks she has won.
“Her father, then. Lord Vance.”
Still nothing. These aren’t cowering servants begging for mercy. Even terrified, even facing death, they remain devoted to their house. The Tashina family breeds loyalty as effectively as they breed magical talent.
Lord Vance’s estate is known for having very faithful employees. Guards, servants, witches—all bound to the house by more than just their salaries. Blood oaths, magical compulsions, generations of family service. They’d rather die than betray their masters.
The corpses scattered around me are proof of their devotion.
I could torture them, tear the information from their brains piece by piece. But I don’t have time for games, and their stubborn silence tells me everything I need to know anyway.
Zari’s not here, and neither is her father.
The sound of boots on marble makes me turn my head. Seth drags a man into the hallway by his collar—thin, pale, with the sharp features of magical breeding. A witch. His robes are singed, one sleeve torn completely away, but he’s alive.
“Your Highness.” Seth’s voice is carefully neutral. He steps around a dead body without looking down. “We’ve searched the entire property. Empty. Except for this one we found hiding in the wine cellar,” he reports, shoving the man to his knees before me.
The witch looks around with terrified eyes. His gaze takes in the blood covering me and the bodies scattered around us, and he starts to shake.
“Test his signature,” I order my own witch.
The man I brought with me steps forward, his face pale but determined. He extends his hands toward the cowering prisoner, golden light flickering between his fingers as he reads the magical traces clinging to the man’s aura.
The light flares brighter for a moment, then dims to a soft glow. My witch’s eyes widen in recognition.
“It’s him,” he says, his voice tight. “This is the signature from the inn. He cast the wards. This is the man who took her.”
Ice forms in my veins as I focus my attention entirely on the kneeling witch.
“Look at me.”
The man’s head snaps up. Tears stream down his cheeks, cutting tracks through grime and soot. His lips tremble as he tries to form words.
“Please,” he whispers. “Please, I’ll tell you anything. I’ll help you. Just don’t kill me. Lady Zari only wanted to punish the whore who had seduced the Prince! She was worried about dark magic being cast on you!”
I go very, very still. “Dark magic.”
“Yes!” He nods frantically. “She said the woman was using forbidden magic to cloud your mind. That she was dangerous. I was helping protect you from dark enchantment!”
“Can you sense any dark magic on me?” I demand.
He blinks, confused by the question. “I—What?”
“You’re a witch. You can read magical signatures, detect enchantments. Can you sense any dark magic on me? Any trace of magical coercion or manipulation?”
His hands rise instinctively, magic flickering around his fingers as he reads my aura. The golden light plays across my skin for several seconds before fading away.
He shakes his head, petrified. “No,” he whispers. “There’s nothing. No magical influence at all.”
I crouch down slowly, my movements predatory and deliberate. My hand shoots out, gripping his jaw with claws that pierce his skin. Blood wells between my fingers as I force him to meet my gaze. When I speak, my voice is hushed, each word dripping with malice.
“The woman you kidnapped is my fated mate.”
The temperature in the room plummets. Frost spreads across the marble beneath us, and the witch’s breath comes out in terrified puffs of vapor.
He recoils at my words, shaking his head frantically. “No! That’s not possible! Lady Zari told me that the woman was the runaway bride from the Silver Stone Pack, that she was a latent shifter who was bewitching her fiancé. If I had known she was your mate—”
The next word dies in his throat as my hand closes around it. I lift him off the ground by his neck, feeling the delicate bones shift under my grip.
His eyes bulge as he claws at my hand, gasping for air that won’t come. I release my grip just enough to let him breathe.
“I didn’t know,” he wheezes. “I swear I didn’t know. Lady Zari said she was nobody. If I had known—”
“You would have done the exact same thing,” I finish coldly, “because you’re loyal to the Tashina family, not to the crown.”
The truth is written on his face, but he pleads with me anyway. “Please. If you spare me, I’ll tell you everything. I’ll help you get her back. I know what Lady Zari has planned. I know where they’ve taken her.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“You do!” The desperation in his voice makes it crack. “You do need me, Your Highness. The Tashina family has covered all their bases. They’ve prepared for every contingency. You’ll need a witness. Someone who can testify as to what really happened.”
An unsettled feeling churns in my stomach. “What do you mean?”
“Lady Zari is at the palace with her father. There’s a trial being held right now. She’s accusing your mate of treason, of using forbidden magic against the crown. She has witnesses. She has evidence.”
The world is suddenly very quiet around me. Even the bond in my chest seems to go still, as if Astra herself is holding her breath.
“A trial.”
“Yes. In the throne room. Before the King and his entire court. Lady Zari is claiming your mate used dark magic to seduce you, to turn you against your betrothed. She’s asking for the death penalty.”