Chapter 2
Mina
It was impossible to block out the sound of ringing bells, even through layers of stone. A new king had been crowned—my wielder. My charcoal pencil snapped. I let out a frustrated sound and flung the pieces away, watching them clatter to the floor. Then I looked down at my ruined sketch.
It seemed fitting, the sight of Rixon sitting on his throne with a dark line slashing through the middle. My chest clenched, making it hard to breathe. I should have been there for this, regardless of how I felt. I was his witch, and I was missing the most important day of his new life.
Thanks to the thing living in me, I was a maelstrom of emotions. Anger, Betrayal, hurt, all amplified into something that had turned me bitter and nasty. Maybe it was good that I was locked up here. Maybe I deserved it. Maybe that’s why Rixon hadn’t found the keys.
No. I shut that dangerous thought down. Rixon loved me—he did. I loved him, too. That’s why this hurt so much.
We were supposed to make decisions as a pair. Other witches might rule their wielders with an iron fist, but that had never been me. I valued his input, had made it clear from the beginning that we would discuss things that affected the both of us.
Then he’d gone and agreed to become king.
There’d been zero discussion about it. He’d shown up and announced his decision—a monumental decision—that he’d made without me.
It hurt more than I could put into words, and frightened me even more so.
This was not the path we were meant to traverse.
We were a witch and wielder pair. Our purpose was to keep Raeria safe from demons.
We were not to involve ourselves in crown politics. It was against witch law.
Rixon had gone and broken that law.
He’d done it to rescue me, so that his father would reveal where he’d hidden me.
Rixon would have searched the palace high and low, and might never have found the secret entrance leading to the royal cells—cells meant to house those of the royal and extended royal family when they’d done unforgivable things.
Up until this, we hadn’t even known of its existence.
This wasn’t the dungeon. Far from it. It was a place you locked up the privileged when you couldn’t just go and punish them like everyone else.
Perhaps it would have been better if I had remained lost. I wasn’t sure I was worth the cost Rixon had accepted. The consequences that might follow. I wasn’t sure Rixon’s life of enslavement was worth it, either.
At least with his father alive, the portal to hell was fueled by another’s blood—even if he was dying. Now, Rixon was the sole survivor of the Kozma line. Only he could keep the darkness at bay.
I let out a sob of despair and covered my mouth, tamping it down. Was this to be his life? Cutting himself open, bleeding on a fucking wall to ensure demons didn’t break through?
A clang sounded and I froze. Footsteps, and then—
“Rixon?” I couldn’t help myself, surging to my feet. I was supposed to be ignoring him, but the sight of him in his ceremonial garb…
He looked every inch the king, regardless of the crown on his head. Tall and broad shouldered, chiseled jaw, handsome face even despite the scattered scars. His hard expression melted at the sight of me.
“Mina.” My name was like a prayer on his lips, in his eyes. His throat bobbed. I felt the weight of everything he’d been through today, felt it press in around us. I hadn’t been there for him.
He blinked, seeming to come to himself, then quickly produced a set of keys from his pocket.
My lips parted. I took a startled step forward. “Where did you find those?” I managed, then steeled my voice. “You didn’t want me at the coronation, is that it?”
He jerked back. It was a minute movement but it stung me all the same. I immediately regretted my cruel words. Just because I was angry and vindictive didn’t make him the same. “I only just found them,” he said, wary. “My mother’s jewelry box.”
I swallowed. “Maybe it was better that way. I am sure your courtiers didn’t need me there as a reminder of your other obligations. Or, is this it for us? Because I should not have to remind you that our oath is until death.”
“I’m not trying to get out of our oath, Mina.” His hand with our shared markings clenched around the keys. Markings we received when we swore an oath to become a bonded pair. He stared at me, the expression in his face pained. I’d been here two weeks and spoken little to him during that time.
When I gave no response, he reached forward, fitting the larger of two keys into the cell door. It opened with a click. I stood there, motionless.
“Come here, Lady Witch.” His command curled something deep inside my belly.
My steps betrayed me. I was before him in moments.
He leaned in to kiss me, but I turned my face away at the last moment, offering my shackles instead.
He sighed, resigned. “I would’ve liked to have you at my mercy, even if only for a few minutes. ”
I didn’t rise to his bait. I simply waited. He frowned. When he fit the key into the lock, the shackles clicked open, tumbling to the stone floor. Magic surged up inside me, no longer suppressed but bursting to get free. Weeks of it, pent up.
A flash of red had me reaching for Rixon’s hand. It was instinctive. In no reality could I bear seeing him hurt, even a little bit. Blood had soaked through his bandage. “You’ve been feeding it, then?”
“I had no choice.”
My movements were agitated as I ripped away the white gauze. That stupid fucking portal. The cause of all our problems. The real reason he was stuck here.
I poured magic into healing the wound, my lips pressed into a flat line. The pent up pressure lessened, but not enough to take the edge off. Still, a relieved exhale left my chest. Using my magic for the first time in weeks felt like slipping into my favorite worn tunic, familiar and comforting.
Rixon’s palm returned to normal. Only the faint scar from his childhood remained, a sign that would forever remind me of the power of his blood. Of his obligation.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice gruff. He lifted his hand to caress my cheek.
I stepped out of reach, then set off at a brick pace, leaving him behind.
“Mina,” he called before jogging to catch up. He’d snatched my journal from the bed, along with the new set of pencils he’d gotten me.
I didn’t want to spend another minute in this place.
I quickened my steps until I was all but racing up the stairs.
I emerged into a palace corridor before I was striding forward.
Rixon’s long legs kept pace beside me. My first deep breath came the moment I passed through a pair of doors leading outside.
I came to a stop, looking up at the night sky, the clouds passing over bright stars.
Beneath the terrace, I heard the sounds of merriment as the coronation ball continued in full swing.
“Mina…” Rixon’s fingers brushed down the length of my back, hesitant, and I shivered.
I clenched my muscles to keep from throwing myself at him. I wanted—so badly—to collapse into his arms, to lose myself in his touch and taste. To forget any of this had happened. Then I remembered my hurt, my fear, my anger. The way my chest squeezed with it.
“I’m tired,” I said, my voice coming out flat. Then I turned and strode back into the palace.
His apartment was exactly as it had been weeks ago, when I’d stormed out.
I’d only gone to get some fresh air in the garden, but Maddox had cornered me and captured me using Nebrine-tipped arrows.
Something I hadn’t seen coming. I’d been so naive to believe I could best him.
Rixon had warned me and I’d disregarded it.
I’d grown too overconfident, letting the thing inside me lure me into false complacency.
Perhaps I deserved the lion’s share of the blame.
I turned in place to find Rixon just inside the doorway, watching me. He opened his mouth several times, then stopped himself. His eyes darted to the desk and he said, “A letter came for you while I was tied up with coronation obligations. It’s from the Citadel.”
A fission of fear shot through me because I knew.
I fucking knew what I would find as I followed his gaze to the desk.
I fetched the missive, reading its contents.
It was from the head witch. She’d heard of Rixon’s father’s passing and of his upcoming coronation.
She reminded me that I had a duty to the Citadel, and that by involving ourselves in crown politics, we’d broken witch law.
I was a lady witch first and foremost. As such, I was required to answer for our crimes.
I was required to present myself before the council.
Fiona didn’t know about the gate to hell. She didn’t know that by staying here, Rixon was still fulfilling a duty to the Citadel—of sorts. But I could hardly pen a letter with that kind of information.
“What is it?” Rixon asked, drifting closer to me.
“The head witch. She isn’t happy, as you can imagine.”
Rixon was silent. I began folding the parchment then thought better of it, handing it to him. He read it over, his jaw set. “What would you have me do, Lady Witch?”
Anger flared up, red hot. I felt my eyes change, caught a glimpse of blackened veins rising to the surface of my skin.
“What would I have you do?!” I repeated, my voice morphing.
“What would I have you do?! Now you ask? Where was that question when you so easily agreed to be king without consulting me?”
His throat bobbed and he took a step back. I flinched at the action. It wasn’t that he was afraid of me like this—I couldn’t bear it if he was—it was that he didn’t wish to anger me further. Part of me felt pleased by the thought that I was affecting him, making him wary.
“There’s nothing for it,” I said at last. “I have to go to the Citadel and explain our circumstances. We can only hope they understand and make an exception.”
They’d better. Otherwise…I couldn’t be sure what the consequences were for breaking witch law. It simply wasn’t done. The Citadel operated independently of the crown and worked hard to keep it that way.
Rixon looked as if he wanted to protest, either at my revealing the nature of his new obligation, or at my impending departure.
We both knew he couldn’t come with me. Not unless he wished to subject the people of Corinna to the same fate they’d faced up until recently.
His father’s blood had been failing. It’s why he’d looked so sickly and unwell.
Tithing blood to a hungry portal hadn’t been kind to his health.
As a result, more and more demons broke through, traversing the tunnels beneath the city, finding ways to get free.
The city’s inhabitants had paid the price.
“I can ask the head witch for answers,” I added.
“Perhaps even the council. I cannot believe your father—your family—has hidden this from the Citadel. It’s a matter that affects all of Raeria.
By rights, it should be within the Citadel’s jurisdiction.
Surely Fiona can help us find a way to close the portal—for good. ”
“You really think they would help?” he asked, clearly skeptical.
“Why wouldn’t they?”
“Because they make their distaste of the crown obvious.”
“This involves everyone! Not just the crown.”
He blew out a breath and said, “What makes you so sure it can be closed?”
“Because I have to believe that it can!” I cried.
“This cannot be your fate, Rixon—I refuse to accept that. There is no other option but to try! I won’t have you perpetuating this cruel and dangerous cycle.
I won’t have you make babies so this gets passed on to the next generation, and the one after that. ”
“I’d be more than willing to make babies, as long as it’s with you.” His voice was soft.
His words calmed my ire. My heart melted a little and I shook myself. “I won’t let this thing eat away at you, Rixon. If there’s a way to close it for good, I’ll find it.”
“So, you’ll run away then, rather than work through whatever is going on between us?”
“I’m not running away.”
“Sure looks it.”
“I’m not running away,” I roared, my anger back in full force. Okay, perhaps it was a convenient aspect of my whole grand plan.
“Then you’ll work through this with me before you go?” The hope in his gaze was bright.
I hesitated. My mouth opened and closed, but no response came. The truth was, I was still too angry to be rational. Still too angry to fix things between us. Not yet.
“Right.” His jaw flexed, expression hardening. “Well, then. I guess I have a party and obligations to return to.”
He backed up several paces, then turned and strode from the room. For a moment, I felt victorious. Then, I just felt empty.
I collapsed to my knees. For the first time in two weeks, the thing inside allowed my anger to extinguish. Only then did the tears begin to fall.