Chapter 45
My heart plummeted. Standing at the door of the cottage, dressed in a long, white, linen dress with bell sleeves, was Livia.
She clutched a basket, its contents hidden from sight beneath a strip of black silk.
Her usually perfect raven hair was tumbling down her back in untamed waves.
I’d never seen her look more alluring. Or frightening.
Shock bound my body and ripped the air from my lungs. My mind was in a state of complete disorientation as it grappled with the undeniable truth. Livia was the murderer. Livia was a witch.
“Alara, I’m so happy to see you, lovely,” she cooed, strolling towards me. “I was beginning to wonder whether you’d received my note. Although your timing leaves something to be desired. I did say before sunset, did I not?” She tutted, as if I was late for tea.
I inhaled a shallow breath. Livia had taken lives. She had deceived me.
“I’ll try not to be too offended that my new friend doesn’t seem all that happy to see me,” she said, pouting.
I exhaled a shaky breath. The kind words, the laughs, the seeds of a friendship—all a lie. The heat in my blood melted away the freeze in my limbs as shock gave way to anger. How could I have fallen for her act?
And how could she be in such high spirits after all the terrible things she’d done? Runa, Basia, Lord Hywell—she had killed them all, and she’d attacked Hugo. She’d kidnapped a child.
I rose from my crouched position. “I don’t make a habit of calling deranged witches my friends,” I said coldly.
Her tinkling laughter echoed across the clearing—the only sound to be heard in this forsaken corner of the forest. “Is that what you think I am? A witch? Oh sweetie, if only I could wield that kind of power.”
Her eyes danced with amusement as she inched closer to me, her steps unhurried.
Her easy-going attitude was undoubtedly a tactic to unsettle me, and it worked.
My breathing was shallow, my body was trembling, and my heart rate hadn’t been at a normal pace for what felt like hours.
Yes, I was angry, but there was no denying it—I was also afraid.
Not for myself, but for the little princess who lay on the ground.
“I am no witch, but I have certainly found them to be quite useful.” She gestured back to the cottage with a sly grin. Witch or not, she was a monster.
Umber leaves rose from their forest bed to dance in a breath of wind. They traveled and tumbled across the unconscious girl at my feet, but she did not stir. “What have you done to her?” I snarled.
She came to a halt beside the fire pit. The breeze redirected the smoke from the cauldron towards where we stood, no more than three feet apart. I angled my body to shield Amalie. I’d be damned before I let Livia near her again. I reached for the power in my core, readying it for attack.
“The princess was given a potion that has suspended her in a death-like coma,” she said. I stiffened. “Unfortunately for Princess Amalie, she will remain that way unless I give her the antidote.”
“Where is it?” I demanded.
She offered me a hateful smile. “All you need to know is that I’ll give it to the princess as long as you do as I say.”
“And what would that be, exactly?” I asked, encouraging her to keep talking—it would give me time to think.
The glass jars and vials inside the cottage. Surely the antidote was in one of those? All I needed to do was take Livia out, then I could search for it.
“To begin with, did you bring what I asked for?”
Eyes narrowed, I reached for the grimoire inside my pocket. At the sight of it, her eyes widened hungrily. When she finally tore her gaze away from it, the look she gave me was indecipherable.
“Put it on the ground in front of you.”
“Give Amalie the antidote and it’s yours,” I said, clutching the book tightly against my body.
She raised an eyebrow. “Worried I won’t keep my word?”
“Your word means less than nothing to me, sweetie.”
She huffed a laugh. “I don’t particularly want to kill the child, but I won’t hesitate to do so,” she said with a callous shrug. “And, before you even so much as think about using your powers against me, know that I’ve gone to considerable lengths to ensure you will never find the antidote.”
“And what makes you think I wouldn’t take that chance?” Though my words were laced with challenge, I kept my power leashed. What would happen if Livia was telling the truth?
She barked a laugh. “We both know you would never do anything to jeopardize the child’s life. But, by all means, take a gamble. See if you can locate the antidote. Do be careful not to poison her with the wrong potion. Tarben wouldn’t be pleased with you at all.”
I arranged my face into a mask of indifference. But, at my sides, my hands balled into fists. Don’t react.
“Not that he cares for you all that much now,” she taunted, cruel amusement lighting her features.
Realization was a punch to my gut. “The amulet—that was you.”
Smug delight dressed her face as she nodded. What was once a familiar sparkle in her eyes now looked like an evil glint.
“Why?” I hated how choked the word sounded; my mask had slipped.
“A sleight of hand. You were so busy sniffing around Oriane, it was all too easy to snatch the princess out from under your noses.” Another apathetic shrug. “Or maybe I just worship chaos.”
My jaw tightened. All I had suffered over these past few days had been for nothing more than a distraction. “How?”
Livia, completely unfazed, seemed to relish revealing her scheme.
“Tarben and his men spent the night at my manor on their way back from the border.
After I drugged him with a sleeping draught, it was simple enough to acquire a drop of his blood.
The true challenge lay in convincing Oriane to wear the amulet without ever taking it off.
I told her it was another piece from her inheritance—that it had belonged to her aunt.
“Now here is the real genius,” she gloated.
“I spun a tale about how it had brought her aunt good fortune beyond her wildest dreams, but, shortly after she took it off, she died. Oriane didn’t care—she’s nothing if not predictable.
As soon as she knew of the amulet’s existence, she kept after me about it until I delivered it to her.
” She beamed as though she was expecting applause.
“Oriane was just a pawn?” I didn’t bother to conceal my disgust. Oriane would never be my favorite person, but to be used in Livia’s games? Even she didn’t deserve that.
At last, she set her basket down. She got to her knees and began sifting through it—she didn’t think I was a threat. A mistake.
“Wedded to a prince and all her financial worries gone? I’d say I made her dreams come true,” she said, still consumed with her search.
I bared my teeth at her. “Why did you kill those people?”
She tilted her head to the side and her unblinking eyes bore into mine in a way that was unsettling. “I have my reasons, all of which I would be happy to explain, seeing as we are friends. But first, I’ll be needing you to put the book down.”
I didn’t move, eying her warily as she removed something from the basket. Quicker than I had time to react, she was holding a silver dagger to Amalie’s throat.
“No, stop!” I held up a hand.
“The book. Now.”
What else could I do? Livia was unhinged. I couldn’t risk her harming Amalie. Cursing her, I gently placed the grimoire on the ground.
“Good girl,” she said, dagger still pressed to Amalie’s throat.
“I did what you asked,” I said in my slowest, most deceptively calm voice. “Now put the dagger away.”
I watched in horror as Livia repositioned the dagger to the palm of Amalie’s hand. Blade severed flesh before I could stop it.
No! No! No!
My scream reverberated across the trees. I hurled a blast of magic towards the dagger. It flew out of her grip and landed a few feet away from us.
Without hesitation, I dove for it. My body crashed against the hard ground. The impact left me winded, but my fingers coiled around the jagged hilt.
She lunged at me, but I rolled and swiftly sprang to my feet. She charged, her eyes manic with fury, but, before she could tackle me, I sent a blast of water towards her, so powerful it knocked her onto her back.
Dagger firmly grasped in my hand and chest heaving, I stood ready and poised to attack. I didn’t know what my next move would be. I only knew I had to keep the weapon out of Livia’s clutches.
“Stay where you are, or I swear to Tuli I’ll drown you,” I panted. Soaked to the bone, she looked up at me. Her face broke into a slow smile.
Before I could ponder it—before I could even move—a powerful pair of arms seized me from behind and pulled me tightly into their body, pinning down my arms. What was unmistakably the lethally sharp blade of a sword lingered dangerously close to my throat.
“Drop the dagger, sweetheart, or I’ll slit your fucking throat,” came a male voice.
I didn’t have to turn around to know who it belonged to—that cocky drawl never failed to get under my skin.
Magnus.