Chapter 22
Aura stood in the shadow of the ring of stones, the air unnaturally still. The gray monoliths towered in a strange formation, their surfaces etched with symbols, age, and moss. She shivered at what they might represent to the warlock, what dark magic they might hold.
The warlock moved with restless purpose, pacing the circle’s edge.
His cleric robe had been replaced by a black robe with intricate symbols stitched around the hem and all the edges.
It flowed around him, the hem snapping at his ankles with every step he took as if the garment itself showed obedience.
His sharp features were lit with fevered gleam and impatience.
He hadn’t said a word since they got there, and Aura got the feeling he was waiting for something or someone.
Her voice broke the silence. “What are you waiting for?”
He halted, eyes narrowing on her. “Patience, lass. Revenge is not a thing to be rushed. It must be savored.” He gestured toward the stones, his hand sweeping wide. “This ground remembers. Refusal. Betrayal. Defiance. Today it will remember something new… submission.”
Aura’s heart pounded, but she lifted her chin. “If it’s submission you seek from me, you’ll wait an eternity. I will never submit to you.”
His laugh was soft and chilling. “A spark of fire, I expected no less. But even fire burns out beneath the right hand. You are where I want you, lass. That is all that matters.”
Her hands curled into fists. “I’ll never be yours.”
“You already are,” he said, stepping closer. His gaze raked over her, not with desire but possession. “Not for what you are, but for what you represent. Through you, I will balance the scales that were long denied me. Through you, I will claim my due.”
Aura’s breath caught, fear tangling with anger. The way he said it—not for what you are, but for what you represent—made her blood chill.
He smiled, slow and cruel. “All that’s left is for the stones to witness, and they will. Today I will have my revenge.”
Through the trees, not far off, Declan pushed hard against the pine branches scraping against his shoulders as he forced his way forward.
The witch kept stride beside him, a swish of her hand easily moving the branches out of her way.
“Slow your reckless pace,” she hissed. “Your strength is no match for what waits there.”
Declan’s jaw tightened, his breath sharp in his chest. “I don’t care. I will fight regardless.”
“You have no defense against a warlock,” she said sharply, grabbing his arm. “He will strip the strength from you before you can lift your sword.”
Declan tore free, his eyes blazing. “Then let him strip me bare. I’ll fight with nothing if I must. She is my wife. My love. I’ll not stand like a coward and watch her harmed.”
The witch studied him in silence, her dark gaze unblinking. “You speak of love as though it were a shield.”
“It is,” he said fiercely. “If not for your curse—”
“Wish,” she corrected with a bitter twist.
“Wish,” he ground out, “I would never have found her. Never known what it was to love her. I’ll not lose that. Not to you. Not to him.”
For the first time, something changed in the witch’s face, the hard lines of her mouth softening, if only for a breath.
“Foolish man,” she muttered, though her tone lacked its usual bite. She swept her hand forward. “Then come. But stay behind me when we reach the stones. If you value her life, let me lead.”
Declan paid her no mind, his only thought on reaching his wife. He broke from the trees without pause. His boots struck the damp ground in hard steps as he broke through to the clearing.
It was eerily still, mist clinging to the base of the ring of stones as if the world itself held its breath. No birds stirred, no breeze touched the space. Aura stood rigid, her chin lifted though her hands trembled at her sides.
The warlock lingered close, pale eyes gleaming like a predator waiting for his prey to exhaust itself.
“Go on, go to her. I will release the spell I had my minion place on you,” the warlock said smoothly, his voice carrying across the clearing. “Say your goodbye, warrior. She belongs to me now.” His head snapped toward the witch. “You may thank the witch—her mother—for that.”
Declan’s heart slammed against his ribs.
Shock stole his breath, but he did not falter as he went to Aura, the look of immense shock on her face letting him know she had not known the witch that had granted his cursed wish had been her mum.
He took her in his arms, locking her against his chest as though he could fuse her to him by will alone.
She clung fiercely in return, her breath hot and desperate against his neck. “I did not know the witch—”
“Your shocked look made that clear,” he said, keeping tight hold of her. “But she does have a lot of explaining to do.”
“Don’t hold your breath on that. Besides, it is the least of our worries.”
“I’ll not let you go, not ever,” he whispered, pressing his cheek to hers.
Behind them, the witch stepped forward, her voice sharp with fury. “Lies spill from your tongue as easily as rot festers in the dark, Alweth. You twist the past to suit your vengeance.”
Alweth’s smile thinned. “Lies, Theodora? I speak of promises.” He cast a glance at Aura and Declan. “She and I were bound long before she turned her back on me. She gave her word to wed me.”
“Word with a condition,” the witch snapped. “You were to forsake your dabbling in black arts.”
Alweth’s face hardened, his pale eyes narrowing as he turned to look at her. “And why should I have done that, Theodora? Power was within my grasp, yet you sought to cage me with demands. And I wisely refused to yield.”
“Your refusal to change told me what I needed to know,” the witch said, her voice low with old grief, “you didn’t love me enough. Here, at this very place, the day before our vows were to be spoken, you chose to serve the dark arts over your love for me.”
His features twisted with remembered rage.
“And I told you then what I tell you now—vengeance would be mine. I waited, watched, and planned, Theodora, to see which daughter of yours would suit me. With Aura’s knowledge of plants combined with my dark magic, we will make a powerful couple.
Besides, when she settled so close to the ring of stones, it confirmed I had made the right choice.
Your daughter will become my bride today, twenty years to the day you should have, and you don’t have the power to stop me.
” He laughed. “How foolish to think that a hag stone you left here all those years ago would prove helpful.”
The witch’s defiance faltered, her shoulders sagging, and Declan saw in her face the truth that turned his blood cold—the warlock was right. She could not match him in power.
Declan tightened his hold on Aura, his voice rough with fury. “Over my dead body will you take my wife from me.”
Alweth’s smile curved with pleasure. “That can easily be arranged.”
“Nay!” Aura cried, slipping from Declan’s grasp and moving to stand in front of him and shield him with her body. Her voice shook, but her chin lifted with fierce resolve. “You will not harm him. Take me if you must… but do not harm my husband.”
Declan’s blood roared in his ears. “Nay, Aura! You will not give your life for mine.” He stepped in front of her, his hands seizing her shoulders and his eyes burning into hers. “We are one. I will never let you go.”
Alweth’s laughter rolled low and cruel, echoing around the ring of stones.
“How touching. But you are not truly husband and wife. I saw to that, though this would have gone more easily if at least one of those fools hadn’t failed me and abducted Aura as ordered.
They all paid the price for their failure.
And you, Declan, would have been rid of Aura before you lost your heart to her. ”
“My heart was lost to Aura the day I first laid eyes on her. She will always have my love.”
Alweth turned an angry sneer on him. “I will see that memory wiped from her mind.”
“Nay!” Aura said, turning to Declan, his arms slipping around her once more. “Never. There is no power strong enough to wipe you and our love from my memory. I will never forget you.”
“Aye, you won’t, since we won’t be separated,” Declan said with fierce determination.
Alweth turned a smug grin on Theodora. “Tell me, Theodora, how does it feel to watch the daughter you have kept safe all these years pay the price for your broken word?”
The witch’s face twisted with fury. Her arms rose, words of power tearing from her throat as the air snapped with sparks of wild magic. Energy surged against Alweth like a raging storm, but he shielded himself with ease, barely moving as he did, and he smirked as though her effort amused him.
Declan didn’t hesitate. The witch had given him time to take flight, and he did.
Tightening his hold on Aura, he headed for the pines.
But the ground shuddered beneath them as they reached their only way out.
A loud crack split the air, and he shoved Aura aside just as a massive pine branch came crashing down, slamming to earth and blocking their escape.
Alweth’s laughter rang out, rich with triumph. “Did you think it would be so easy? Theodora has no power to best me. None of you can.”
Declan glanced back, the witch’s chest heaved, and her face was pale with exhaustion. Her power was spent.
“Come to me, my love, it is time for us to go,” Alweth said, and summoned her to him with a wave of his hand.
Aura felt the pull, her legs moving against her will, and she clutched Declan’s arm, her voice breaking. “Declan…”
“Nay,” he said, keeping tight hold of her and being drawn along with her. “Never will I let you go.”
The pull grew stronger, tearing between them, and Declan fought to keep hold of her just as she fought to stay latched to him.
Alweth laughed as he teased them, letting them hold on, then putting space between them only to bring them back together again.
The witch watched helplessly, not a shred of power left to help her daughter no matter how hard she tried to conjure it.
Then the sky itself roared with a crack of thunder that split the air, rattling the stones.
A blinding flare of light seared across the clearing.
From its heart stepped a man—tall, broad-shouldered, long silver hair glinting like moonlight.
His fine features were cut with stern resolve, his dark leather garments clinging to him as if forged by the storm itself.
His piercing gaze locked on the warlock. “This ends today, Alweth.”
Aura’s lips curved in a trembling smile, her eyes shining with hope as she whispered, “Da.”
Alweth stiffened and his voice dripped with venom. “So… the one who took what was mine thinks to conquer me? You are as foolish as your wife.”
Aura’s father stepped near the circle of stones, his presence filling the clearing with a force that made even the air shiver. “You threatened what is mine—my blood, my daughter. Today, Alweth, your darkness finds its end.”
A hiss escaped Alweth’s lips. He thrust his hand upward, and the stones groaned as if the earth itself bent to him. Shadows whipped around him, writhing like serpents ready to strike.
But Aura’s father answered with a single motion. He lifted his palm, and light poured from it, white and fierce, scattering the shadows like smoke in a gale. “You have always hidden behind trickery and curses. Face me with strength, if you dare!”
Alweth’s eyes narrowed. “Strength? You forget, I was always stronger. And this time, you have more to lose.” His gaze darted to Aura and Declan, his hand twitching with a spell ready to strike them down.
Aura’s father stepped into his path, his voice thundering. “You’ll never have them.”
The two powers collided. Darkness and light surged against each other, sparks snapping in the air. The stones shook, and the ground cracked beneath their feet.
Aura clung to Declan, her heart hammering as the clash sent waves of energy bursting outward, whipping her hair across her face.
Declan’s arms tightened around her, keeping her tight against him as they both kept their eyes on the fight.
It was like watching a storm given flesh—Alweth, fierce with fury, shadows curling tighter, sharper, deadlier. Aura’s father, unyielding, his silver hair whipping in the force of his own light, his every step forward pushing Alweth back toward the heart of the stones.
The clash rose in a deafening roar of light and shadow, the stones trembling as if they might shatter apart. For a moment, Aura feared the two forces were equal—until her father’s hand cut sharply through the air.
The light surged, bright as lightning, fierce as fire. It swallowed Alweth’s shadows, stripping them bare, unraveling them thread by thread.
Alweth’s eyes went wide, panic breaking through his arrogance. “Nay, you are not strong enough to—”
“That is where you made your mistake, not knowing that a father’s love is far more powerful than any warlock’s powers.”
Her father’s power struck him full in the chest, hurling him back against the stones. The ring flared, glowing as if to reject him, and in a blinding burst of brilliance, the warlock was consumed. His scream split the air, then died into silence.
The clearing fell still. The earth stopped shaking. The shadows evaporated into nothingness.
Aura clutched at Declan’s arm, her breath ragged. Her father lowered his hand, the light dimming, his chest rising steadily though his face bore the weight of battle. He turned his eyes—keen, silver-gray—to Alweth’s last fading trace.
“It is finished.” His voice cut through the quiet, deep and absolute.
Aura’s heart pounded, tears springing to her eyes. She whispered, almost in disbelief, “Da…”
For the first time, his stern expression softened as his gaze met hers.
Aura tore from Declan’s arms, racing across the clearing, her voice breaking with relief. “Da! My summons reached you!”
His arms swept her close, strong and steady. “Aye, lass,” he said, his tone carrying for all to hear. “It rang repeatedly, loud and clear, through the hag stone.”
She buried her face against his chest, tears of joy spilling, before pulling back, her hand clasping his as she tugged him toward Declan. “Da, this is my soon-to-be husband, Declan.”
Declan, still shaken by what he’d witnessed, could only stare between them, muttering in disbelief, “Witches. You’re all witches.”
Her father’s sharp eyes fixed on him, a glint of warning there. “You’ll get used to it. And see that you treat my daughter well—or you’ll answer to me.”
Aura gave an awkward laugh, nudging her father’s arm. “He’s jesting, Declan.”
Declan wasn’t so sure.
Her father’s gaze finally shifted, landing on Theodora. His voice turned hard, clipped with anger. “Theodora… you and I need to talk.”