Chapter Twenty-Five
Avari
By the second day of the king’s absence, nausea had already made breakfast unbearable. I underestimated just how much I offended him.
Everything passed in a blur as I waited for his return. Time slipped by until I realised three weeks had passed since I arrived in Fogoya.
I chose to call it what it was, deeming the term imprisonment no longer fitting.
Having spent most days with the king, I'd grown far too used to his presence. So much so that his sudden absence felt unsettling.
Perhaps if I knew his plans or whereabouts, I could focus on anything else. Yet as I wandered the corridors, that familiar pull toward the lower level of the castle returned.
With nothing better to do than indulge my witchly curiosity, I decided exploring was better than lying in bed and feeling sorry for myself while waiting for him.
When he came back, I needed to make him see my perspective and understand how much I truly appreciated his court.
On the way down I passed family portraits on my floor, scenic paintings on the third, bare tapestries on the second, and ornate decor on the first before finally reaching the basement. Still, the pull urged me onwards.
Soon I passed the vast collection of cars, surely enough for the royals to choose a different one every day for weeks, before finding a door hidden behind a thick pillar.
The staircase beyond looked nothing like the polished ones I was used to. Built from rough slabs with grim grey walls, it was austere but well lit. I descended another two floors before stopping at a door sealed with a passcode.
Forcing my green power around the mechanism, I struck. It clicked open. In moments like this, being half-witch proved useful; a fae would have had to break it or burn it down, which would have been difficult since it was metal.
I crossed the bare corridor until I reached a heavy door barred like a cell. Thick metal rails left just enough space for me to slip a hand through. A food-tray slot sat beneath them.
‘Who are you?’ A tall, handsome man peered out from a surprisingly luxurious room beyond the cell.
He looked clean and well-kept. There was little he could want: a sofa, a television, and a wall of books.
‘Who are you?’ I asked, assessing him. There had to be a good reason he was locked up.
‘I asked you first,’ he said, grinning as he leaned on the metal bars.
‘But I’m the one who found you, so it’s my question to ask.’
His nostrils flared, his pointing finger tapping against the wall as though he couldn't wait for my answer. ‘You smell of my brother. Where is he?’
The resemblance struck me instantly. He looked like River and Michael: tall and lean, with well-defined muscles and features carved hard around the edges. His gaze alone could stop a person in their tracks. I couldn't sense his power, but I was certain he possessed plenty.
‘That depends on which one you mean,’ I teased.
‘You only carry one’s scent.’ His smirk was pure offence. ‘I take it you and our king are close acquaintances?’
My cheeks burned. ‘What are you implying?’
Hands raised in mock surrender, he said, ‘Merely commenting on what I can smell.’
‘Then there’s something wrong with your nose, my guy.’ I crossed my arms the way River always did, adding weight to my words.
The man only laughed harder. ‘He’s wearing off on you, you know. How cute. Between us girls, how long have you been fucking him? I’ve never known him to parade his flings in court.’
What an uncultured dickhead. ‘Preposterous! How dare you?’
‘Entertain me, tiny one.’ He gestured toward his cell. ‘I’ve got nothing better to do than gossip.’
Fed up, I demanded, ‘What’s your name? Don’t tell me it’s related to water.’
Eyes widening, he took a step forward, observing me. ‘He shared his name?’
‘So?’
‘I’m Blaze,’ he said out of the blue.
I heard that name before, though it took me a moment to place it.
Wait.
The realisation hit like lightning. ‘Like the Isle of Blaze?’
‘Have you been?’ His voice softened, eyes glazing over when he looked down, unwilling to shed light on his emotions.
‘No, but I’ve heard of it,’ I said, thinking of his daughter, Isla. What I couldn’t fathom was why they locked him up.
‘From a little girl by any chance?’ His plea was raw.
I swallowed hard. The resemblance was unmistakable. ‘Yes.’
Conflict clouded his face. ‘How is she?’
I froze. If they hadn’t let him near his daughter, it had to be for a reason. ‘I’m not sure whether I should talk about her.’
‘Yes, I understand.’ He swallowed. ‘So you know why I’m here then.’
Maybe I could coax it out of him. ‘You can tell me your side of the story.’
‘That means you don’t.’ His loud snort echoed around the bare walls of the corridor. ‘Nice try though.’
A loud bang echoed from the entrance door upstairs, the one with the passcode. Footsteps thundered toward me. Emily appeared, panic in her eyes.
‘You can’t be here!’ she shouted, grabbing my arm.
Behind her, the prisoner grew unrecognisable, eyes black, claws tearing at the bars until they bled. He thrashed and lunged for Emily, screaming obscenities and threats of how he would kill her.
Tears streamed down her face as she dragged me up the stairs. Once we reached the basement, she slammed the door and slid to the floor, sobbing.
‘What were you thinking?’ she cried, her voice cracking as she hugged her knees.
‘I wasn’t. I’m sorry.’ I knelt beside her. ‘My magic brought me down there. I didn’t mean to.’
Emily wiped her tears, her face blotchy and pale. ‘What was he saying before I got there?’
My heart ached for her. ‘He asked about Isla, whether I met a small girl in court.’
She bowed her head, more tears slipping free. I pulled her into a hug and let her cry.
‘That’s her father.’
My throat tightened. ‘I know.’
‘He’s cursed.’
Walking Emily back to her room on the far side of the fourth floor, I couldn’t stop thinking about the cursed prince.
He had been bewitched to kill his mate and then himself. I couldn’t imagine a curse more cruel. It was even worse than mine. To save him, they had to keep him away from her. They wouldn’t risk letting him near Isla, and who could blame them? No child should see their father locked in a cage.
I turned a corner and was hit with enough force to send me flying backwards.
Bones rattled as I slammed against the floor.
My ears rang, my balance gone.
Before I could recover, something wrapped around my throat and squeezed.
It squeezed hard. Too hard.
I clawed at it, but my fingers slipped through. It was water. I was being strangled by a water-wielder.
Panic threatened to drown me. My fire wouldn’t answer at first. It was the thought of never seeing nature again, never seeing him, that sparked it. Tiny flames flared, steaming the noose until it hissed away.
He lunged, knife drawn. I summoned his blade, wrenching it from his grasp, but it slipped from my hand and clattered across the tiles.
Pain exploded in my chest. My ribs had cracked again.
‘Outside! Now!’ Anya’s voice thundered in my head.
I tried, but his hands closed around my throat. No air. No power.
The world went black.
Unease spread through my body, gripping my limbs and threatening to tear me apart. I stirred awake to someone gently caressing my forehead.
‘No, stay down,’ Michael’s voice cut through the haze. ‘Don’t move.’
He steadied my neck as I tried to focus. It wasn’t broken, but breathing burned again.
Across the hall, someone lifted my attacker by the throat. The man writhed, clawing helplessly. Then crimson flames engulfed him until he was but a scorched corpse. I didn’t need to see to know whose flames they were.
Darkness claimed me again.
When I woke, I was on my bed. River sat beside me in one of my brown lounge chairs, eyes sunken and jaw tight.
‘You know,’ he began, rubbing his face, ‘when I said I had a praise kink, I didn’t mean it as encouragement to go find trouble just so I could repeatedly save you.’
I blinked at him. He was gone for days, and now he waltzed in, acting like nothing had happened. Granted, he probably saved my life again, but still. What a douche.
‘Where were you?’ My voice was hoarse, each word scraping my throat.
‘There were things I needed to take care of. I went to see my father.’
That didn’t explain his sudden departure. ‘Why didn’t you say anything? Or goodbye?’
‘Because then I wouldn’t have left, and I needed to.’ He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. Stubble shadowed his jaw. ‘There are things I’ve been suspecting about your mother. My father knew her long before I did.’
‘What is it?’ I pushed myself upright to meet his gaze.
His eyes lingered on my bruised neck, sadness darkening his expression. ‘I thought you were safe. I left Michael to watch over you, and in one day you could have died twice.’
I couldn’t help a dry laugh. Death seemed fond of me. ‘It’s a talent.’
A corner of his mouth lifted. ‘Life with you is really something, little witch.’
‘Like in a life-sentence kind of way?’
Amusement danced in his eyes. ‘No, you can escape prison. I’m stuck with you.’
Fear fluttered beneath my ribs, but I asked anyway, ‘So what exactly have you been suspecting about Mummy Dearest?’
‘I think she might be a blood witch.’
My mind spun. ‘But they were outcast to another realm. How is that possible?’
‘There are plenty of things that don’t make sense about your mother.’ His limbs stretched, then he leaned back. ‘Go to sleep.’
Restless, I lay there, thoughts racing. River stayed in the chair, watching me. His gaze kept drifting over me, sharp and unreadable, almost murderous when it reached my neck.
He didn’t know who the attacker was. Probably a spy. Not that it mattered; he had scorched the man before anyone could ask questions.
That part I understood. But why stay? Why watch me like I might vanish in my sleep? It felt unnecessary.
‘It’s creepy,’ I muttered, too tired to hold back.
Resting elbows on his thighs, he looked as if he needed the rest himself. ‘What now?’
I glared. ‘You’re watching me sleep.’
‘What’s creepy about it?’ he asked, cracking his fingers to stay awake.
‘You’re staring like some creep in the shadows.’
He hissed dramatically, without a bite. ‘Listen, witch, close those pretty eyes and get some rest because I’m not going easy on you tomorrow.’
‘What does that mean?’ The idea of spending time together sounded far too appealing.
‘Your fire training,’ he promised, his tone growing softer. ‘I can’t let you embarrass me like this any longer.’
‘What the— I’m sorry my near-death experience embarrassed you.’
‘Tremendously so.’
I raised my head to meet his eyes. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Deadly,’ he replied with a smirk.