21. Chapter 21
Chapter 21
Gray
T he witch now waited in a cell of a different kind. Not a cage, per se, but a locked room with no way out except a regular wooden door. One Gray now stood in front of, arms crossed and magic ready. He had called on his shadows immediately once he realized who’d been inside the cage, a jolt of fear and anger buzzing along his skin at seeing her scarred face again.
Gray remembered the first time he’d seen the witch, her horrible, disfigured eyes seared into his brain for eternity. She hadn’t been the first witch who’d lived within the palace, but she was by far the most tormented. Gray had wondered on more than one occasion why the king beat and burned her, and then he realized. This witch was strong willed. Had not been as easily broken as the witch before her—a tiny thing who’d been so afraid of Brennus’s might, she’d agreed to his every whim, including creating the Lonely Death. She’d been only a shell of a woman when she died, and his father had been determined for his new, shiny witch to become the same.
Gray wondered if she had. Years and years in a cage could break you, but it could also make you go mad, and if that was the case, Gray would not be caught unprepared. But instead of showing any sort of aggression, the woman had simply crossed her arms around her emaciated stomach and asked who was there and if she could have a glass of water.
As Gray had walked toward her to check for weapons, she’d flinched at the first sound of his heeled boot hitting the stone. A jolt of pity settled in his chest, surprising him. This was all her fault, after all. Even if his father had lied about her temperament, at a minimum, she’d been complicit in his plans. Without her, the Lonely Death wouldn’t be nearly as strong. It wouldn’t have spread to Calir through the portal.
But Gray had seen morally strong men give in to his father before. Could he fault her if years of torture at his hands had made her give in to his wicked demands?
His stomach twisted.
Yes, he could. But could he also allow himself to feel pity for the clearly broken woman? It appeared, to his ire, the answer was yes.
Once they’d returned upstairs, Gray had asked Elise to get some of the maids to bring a bath for the filthy witch. Blood and dirt caked her skin, making the scars across her eyes appear all the more gruesome. He wasn’t sure what Eudora had planned for this woman, but the bargain had been made all the same, and the least Gray could do was allow the woman some dignity before handing her over to a witch even more evil than herself.
Lea stood against the wall as they waited, using a dagger to pick the dirt from beneath her fingernails. She hadn't said much since they’d discovered the witch, but the sharp edge of her tension and anger seemed to have dulled. The tight lines of her jaw had relaxed a bit, as had the tension in her shoulders.
“What are you thinking?” Gray asked, anger bubbling up his spine at the missing mate bond and his inability to sense her thoughts and emotions .
“I'm wondering what happened to her eyes,” Lea said plainly. “Why, if she helped the Black King, he would harm her so horribly?”
“My father could be very convincing,” Gray said wryly, fighting off a shiver as a memory of him holding a courtier’s head under water until he submitted to his will flashing through his mind.
“She must not have done it willingly,” Lea said, pretending to examine her nails. It wasn't pity Gray heard in her voice, just a plain statement of fact. He could practically see the wheels turning in her mind, trying to piece together what had happened.
“Maybe there was something he didn't want her to see?” Gray said.
“Or maybe she'd seen too much,” Lea answered, finally meeting his eyes, her brows drawing together.
The door at the end of the hallway swung open, and a cold breeze swept through the corridor and rustled the tapestries. Gray bristled at the immediate way the air seemed to thicken with ill intent.
Eudora, come to collect her prize.
Gray’s shadows begged him to set them free. To block off the witch. To keep her from ever coming close to Lea again. It didn't matter to him that Tanad was fond of Eudora. In fact, he didn't understand it at all. She’d done nothing but trick him for her own self-serving purposes for years , and he was certain this was no different.
“Where is she?” Eudora wasted no time asking.
“What do you want with her?” Lea sheathed her dagger and straightened from where she leaned against the wall. Eudora's answering smile was taunting, and she flipped her long white hair behind her shoulders.
“I don't think that information was part of our deal.” Eudora strode forward, her movements far too graceful for the supposed age of her body. “But I’m feeling kind today. Show her to me, and I'll consider telling you.”
Lea's chin lifted slightly, defiance etched to the tight lines around her eyes. “Or maybe I'll kill you now and be done with it,” Lea said, her eyes flashing black. The two women stared each other down, and Gray watched, hesitating. Lea couldn't kill Eudora. Surely she knew that. Not if they wanted Tanad’s help with this war. They needed his forces. His army provided even more men and women than their own for the cause.
Was this a tactic to get information? Or was that darkness inside her truly threatening to kill the witch and destroy their relationship with Tanad, the best ally they had.
“Considering you weren't exactly forthright with your deal with Gray—you know, that little sacrifice that you failed to mention would cause us to lose our mate bond and both of our lives—I think you can forgive me for wanting a little something out of this exchange, too.”
Eudora narrowed her eyes, her smile faltering. “The terms of the deal were set. My end was fulfilled. Let me have her.”
“No.” Lea walked forward with slow, deliberate steps, pulling her sword from its sheath and wrapping her fingers tightly around the hilt. “If she was capable of helping the Black King with the Lonely Death, then she’s capable of far more. Her magic combined with yours could destroy the world. So I'll ask one more time. Why do you want her? Who is she?”
Eudora’s smile twisted cruelly, and Gray’s stomach dropped, absolutely certain that whatever was about to come out of her mouth was going to hurt Lea somehow.
“Who she is is another question altogether, my sweet girl. You should've just asked that to begin with,” Eudora said with mock sympathy.
“Enough with the games,” Gray snapped, his shadows rolling across the floor. He was tired of the witch and her puzzles and half answers.
“So testy, all of you.” Eudora rolled her eyes, unbothered. She looked down at her hands, brushing a smudge off her ring finger.
“Get the fuck on with it, Eudora,” Gray demanded. His heart pounded, his fingers tensing at his sides. “Or I’ll—”
“As to why I want her,” Eudora interrupted, as if Gray hadn’t been speaking at all, “I will tell you once I see proof that you did, in fact, retrieve who I asked for without harming her. As a kindness, and a show of good faith that I am, in fact, not the horrible bitch you and your purple-haired friend believe me to be. But as far as who she is, well, I'm surprised you don't know. The resemblance is uncanny, don't you think, Evander?”
Gray pictured the frail witch in his mind. Her scarred, disfigured face was so mutilated, it would be impossible to tell if there was a resemblance to anyone beneath all those scars. Lea tensed beside him, her jaw going tight. Her eyes cut to his, searching, and he shook his head, confirming that he wasn’t sure what Eudora was talking about, either.
“You still don't know?” Eudora’s eyes lit up with delight, and Gray braced himself for whatever she was about to say, preparing for the chaos or despair her confession would cause.
Eudora grinned, a sickly sweet smile that made Gray’s blood run cold. “Why Azalea, I’m shocked. You don't even recognize your own birth mother?”