Estela looks up at her husband, perhaps speaking words through their bond, conversing without my prying ears hearing them.
“I will send for the other members of the council,” Estela says at last as Teo nods.
I step to the side to let her speak to the guards. They quickly hurry away, and the three of us make our way to the throne room.
Part One
Chapter 1
VANN
Avague awareness of hands on my body rouses me next. Unclear shapes and shadows move in and out of the center of my vision, just out of reach. They are cold, and large. All wrong for my perfect flame-haired soulmate.
“Firelocks,” I groan.
The word passes through my mind and crosses my lips without my awareness, bringing pain in its stead.
Soulmate.
Mate.
Mine.
Not anymore.
The blackness is replaced with an explosion of red. Hot pain cleaves its way through the darkness, gripping my soul as the object from my chest is removed. I fight against the pain, the inescapability of it, with whatever is left in my soul.
“Stop!” I bellow, to no response.
I am peeled away from where my blood has stuck to the ground beneath me, which elicits another deep, guttural sound, tearing through my dry throat.
The red-hot agony washes over me in sharp, unbearable waves,as unrelenting as the deep sea. I choke, spitting out the bile that fills my mouth as every part of me is consumed by the sharp death.
I wish I could die faster. A great many soldiers and warriors before me greeted death like an old friend, and maybe, just maybe, I will join them today.
Then the sunshine siren darts back across my vision.
And I remember that she has not just left me, she has been taken. She was stolen by Arion. No, she left because I lied to her. And the cursed witches on this island and I are the only ones who know that.
If I do not come for her, my woman will bind herself to that piece of living shit.
As I am roughly dragged away from the place where I was sure I would die, the images of the witches around me grow clearer and clearer. I see the top of a cave, not unlike the one where they took Arlet shortly after our arrival.
A stone slab is cold under my torn back. A familiar-aged face appears in my vision.
I would know this woman anywhere—the one who lived outside of Iravida. The witch who accepted my deal and took my heart in exchange for gold.
“You,” I barely manage to choke out.
“My name is Elanina. And it has been a long time, troll,” she says. “And you do not look much better than the last time we met.”
“You were the one who told her about our deal,” I growl. Because of those careless words, Arlet decided to leave. She is risking her life thanks to this woman.
“Because you did not tell her that you’d given me your heart. Every woman deserves truth from her lover,” she responds simply, and the words sting my already raw flesh. She’s right. The one to blame is me. It was my choice to go through the ritual, my choice to withhold the information from everyone around me. If I had been honest…
“Do you really wish to spend your last few moments alive drowning in grief and bickering over meaningless actions?” she asks.
“Is there nothing to be done?” I say, aware that I have no gold oranything else valuable on hand to give away. That it will be the end, and I will leave the world a worse place because of my hubris.