THE WITCH'S CONSORT (The First Witch Book 2)

by Meg Xuemei X

  My clothing covered every inch of my skin, my gloves were tight on my hands, and my hood concealed most of my face. I wouldn’t harm Lucas.

  “What’s your problem, Boomer?” Lucas growled. “I’m sick and tired of you bullying Freyja. This has to stop!”

  Boomer removed himself from Lucas’ path. “Well, then, go ahead and touch her and die like the Angel in the alley. You might even prefer smoke coming out of your ass.”

  That was how people twisted truth. Smoke never came out of the asses of those I touched with death. It came out of their eye sockets.

  “What are you talking about?” Lucas said as he flicked a glance in my direction. He’d also seen the corpse of the Angel I’d killed.

  “Go ask your sweetheart over there,” Boomed said. “Ares almost ran his blade through her for what she intended for us.”

  Lucas strode toward me but stopped a few feet. I dropped my gaze and stared at his boots. I’d planned his death at the lake, and he’d been nice to me all the time.

  “Freyja,” he called, squatting in front of me.

  “Huh?” I said. I couldn’t look him in the eyes.

  “I haven’t had a chance to talk to you since the Angels’ attack,” he said. “I hope you feel better now.”

  “I do, thank you,” I said.

  “Freyja, you’re my friend,” he said. “I don’t blame you for anything. Even if your touch can cause death, you’ve been wearing gloves all the time to protect us,” he paused and added, “after you got to know us a bit more.”

  I fought back grateful tears. I would not forget this kindness.

  “The love-sick idiot is totally blind,” Jericko said with disgust from his campfire. He’d watched our exchange with eager anticipation, hoping Lucas would at least spit on me if not knifing me.

  I raised my head and looked Lucas straight in the eyes. “I was born with this curse. Everything I touch dies. And it isn’t just my hands. Every inch of my skin is lethal.”

  “I saw the druid touch your hands,” he paused, “and one time Ares touched your face.”

  “Only a few people are immune,” I said.

  “Maybe I’m immune, too,” he said hopefully. “Test me.”

  “No!” I said in horror. “Merlin gave me a list, and you aren’t on it. I’m sorry, Lucas. I didn’t mean to hurt you or lie to you.”

  A hint of sadness crossed his face as he realized what my words meant, but he put an effort to expel the misery in his eyes. “If I were you,” he said, “I wouldn’t run around to tell people about the death touch either.”

  I didn’t deserve his kindness.

  “Is it curable?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never tried.”

  “Do you want to get rid of it?”

  I nodded.

  “After we find the First Witch,” Lucas said, “we’ll return to the druid. He must have the cure.”

  “He doesn’t,” I said. “But I might find someone else who can cure me.”

  “Who?” he asked.

  I glanced at the Dragonians. They were blatantly eavesdropping. The guardians also pricked their ears. Lucas followed my sight before returning his gaze to me.

  “Whoever they are,” he said, “I’ll go with you to search for them.”

  He didn’t know—none of Ares’ men knew—that I was heading toward the Fey realm where the Empress would either cure me or kill me.

  “I don’t want to put you in danger,” I said.

  He grinned. “I make love to danger.” Then he realized it was too blunt and flushed.

  My face flamed.

  “Are you sure you have that lethal touch?” he asked, trying to tune it down. “I just can’t picture you with death.”

  Just then, a jaguar charged toward us from the mountain side.

  The guardians stirred and rose.

  Lucas shifted instantly. A large, black panther now stood between the jaguar and me, growling threateningly.

  Caen, who had been missing early on, chased after the jaguar. I wasn’t sure if he’d been hunting the animal or driving it toward me by design.

  I crouched, tossing my gloves away, and leapt toward the beast.

  This was the first time I showed my hunting skills. Like Ares, I could jump high and far. He was genetically enhanced, but I had Angel blood.

  I soared across the panther and landed on the jaguar, pressing my hand on its fur. The panther dashed toward us as the jaguar yowled in pain, prone to the ground in fours. I hopped off. The jaguar turned gray, and smoke emitted from its eye sockets.

  “End its suffering,” I snarled at Caen who had just reached us.

  He gave me a dark look and slashed the jaguar across the neck.

  Boomer and Jericko had gathered around the animal, staring at the remaining smoke hovering above the jaguar.

  I’d just demonstrated my killing skills. I could have done the same to the group. Jumping on them with one touch, and they would be done for. My show wasn’t for them but for Lucas. I didn’t want him to get this foolish idea that he could be immune and get himself killed.

  Lucas shifted back and stared at me. There was no disgust in his eyes but awe and sorrow. He saw the barrier between us.

  I trudged toward my campfire, leaving the group and the dead jaguar behind.

  They debated if they could eat the animal since I’d touched it.

  All this time, Ventus said, I thought you were a damsel-in-distress when you climbed onto my back like a frightening fawn. You deceived even the great Guardian of Wind, Witchling.

  For your own good, I said, putting back my gloves.

  Ventus snorted.

  Fierce as fire, Ignis said, opening an eye to gaze at me.

  Cold as ice, said Glacies.

  Hard as metal, said Mettalum.

  At least, the guardians thought I belonged.

  CHAPTER 7

  Ice Burn

  A sudden commotion woke me up.

  The panther rose beside me with a ferocious snarl, fangs bared, ready for a battle.

  The shifter had come to sleep beside me to warm me instead of sharing the tent with his team members while I’d curled near the dwindling fire.

  I’d protested out of fear of harming him.

  “You’ve covered yourself from head to toe,” Lucas had said. “You couldn’t harm me even if you want to.”

  At last, I’d agreed. So I’d slept inside the bedroll while leaning against the large panther, and the mountain air didn’t seem that chilly anymore.

  “Back off, Lucas,” I heard Ares’ voice before I saw him towering over us.

  What now? I thought wearily. Couldn’t he just leave me alone for a night? When had he returned?

  Despite my reservations toward him, my pulse quickened at his closeness, and the air crackled with electricity when we shared the space.

  “I’m taking Freyja to sleep properly in the tent,” Ares said.

  Lucas glowered in answer.

  When I had first met them, I’d planned to drive a wedge between them, but now I didn’t want any of them hurt. If a fight broke out, Lucas would wound Ares, and the prince would kill the shifter.

  “It’s okay, Lucas,” I said, raising my torso and embracing the panther, careful not to let my half exposed face touch him. “I want to sleep in the tent. The hard ground hurts my back.”

  The panther stopped snarling, calmed by my patting. It was pity that I couldn’t touch him. He’d always been awesome to me, tender and protective but never overbearing. Even after he learned about my death touch, he had still come to keep me warm.

  From his brown eyes, I read that he knew how nervous I was sleeping so close to him and how afraid I was to hurt him. But his expression said that he trusted me with his life.

  Ares growled threateningly, not like the communication between the panther and me. He grabbed me, scooped me into his arms, and strode toward the tent.

  Someone had patched up what Ares had slashed open while I was sleeping.<
br />
  Over Ares’ shoulder, I saw Lucas watching us. He seemed to want to pounce on Ares, but he just stood there, letting Ares carry me into the tent.

  I hadn’t struggled when Ares had snatched me from Lucas’ side because I didn’t want any conflict between them, but now that we were alone, I wasn’t docile anymore.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded, not appreciating being manhandled.

  “I want you to sleep on a softer bed,” he said.

  “Why do you care?”

  “You have no idea. I said I’d feed you in the day and get you to a warm bed at night. I’m keeping my promise.”

  “I chose to sleep on the ground and I was sleeping well,” I said.

  “I won’t risk you falling ill before you find me the witch,” he said.

  All this protection and consideration was for his witch. I was but the means to the end for him. I was the tool he needed to keep shiny and sharp to work properly.

  When he felt like rejecting me, he did that over and over. When he wanted to punish me, he slashed at the tent. When he needed to walk away, he abandoned me right there.

  Now when he wanted me near him, he just snatched me from my friend’s side. He thought it was his goddamned right to take whatever he desired. I was weary and tired of being pushing around by him.

  He wanted me, but he constantly chose another woman who he hadn’t met.

  There was nothing special about the Dragonian prince. He just happened to be the one that I could touch and feel pleasurable, by the flawed design of the fucking universe.

  Believe me, asshole, you’ll need more than luck to find the First Witch.

  Rage took me, and I swung my arm at him. “Fuck you, and fuck your witch!”

  The prince grabbed my wrist. I’d forgotten again how fast he could move, but I didn’t give up. I kicked him, and he let me.

  I fought back a wince as my foot connected with his chin. It felt like I’d crashed into a boulder.

  He frowned at me. “What was that for, Freyja? You fought me because you would prefer to sleep on the hard ground with an animal?”

  “How dare you call Lucas an animal?” I said. “How dare you treat me as your property? You kidnapping me doesn’t give you the right to lord over me. I don’t belong to you and never will. I’m not your fucking slave!”

  “How dare I? No one dares to use that word and tone with me,” he barked back. “And how dare you be so pissed off while you’re the one who have done all the wrong things? I’ve never treated you as a slave, woman! I even decided to let go of your atrocious attempt at murdering me cold-bloodedly. I even decided to put the past behind us and give you a second chance!”

  No one had ever called me woman before. It sounded like a big insult when Ares had said it.

  “What second chance?”

  “We work together like a team again,” he said, trying to calm himself.

  “Right, I work for you,” I sneered. “You still need me to find your witch so you can fuck her and breed a load of brats.”

  “Freyja, watch your tongue!”

  “Once I find her and you don’t need me anymore, what will you do to me?” I raised a finger and drew it across my throat. “That’s what you’ll do. And you’ll toss my body in the ocean and feed it to the sharks.”

  Ares looked at me in horror, then grief-stricken. “That’s what you think of me?”

  “What else can I think?” I said. “If you’d forgotten I was still useful to you, you’d have cut me instead of the tree today.”

  The camp was incredibly quiet. Ares and I glared at each other as we realized that everyone was holding their breath and listening. If the tension grew thicker, I was sure Lucas would show up at the tent flap. I wouldn’t be able to stop a fatal fight if they got on it again. Lucas was my friend. Despite that Ares was a jerk I didn’t want him to get hurt either.

  “Go to sleep, Freyja,” Ares lowered his voice. “Tomorrow you’ll be calmer, and we’ll talk if you want. In the meanwhile, I must keep others safe from you and you safe from others. When you stay close to me, it’ll be the safest for everyone.”

  I turned from him, not bothering to send him one last contemptuous look as I crawled into the bedroll and wrapped it tightly around me.

  I wanted to be dead to the world tonight and deal with tomorrow’s trouble tomorrow.

  ~

  Ice coursed through my veins.

  My teeth clattered. My bones numbed.

  I had never felt so cold.

  I flashed open my eyes. I was breathing frost.

  This wasn’t normal for me. With potent Angel blood in me, I could sustain extremely low temperatures. I’d proved adaptable in the high air on Ventus’ back. Even though mountain’s night was chilly, I shouldn’t feel like a frozen vegetable.

  Cold burned in me.

  Then something hit home.

  The Fey essence in me had been fighting the dark Angel power within me every now and then, but their struggle had never pushed me to the edge, even as I grew older, the fight between the light and the dark turned fiercer.

  It was like the full impact of my curse had just arrived.

  But it shouldn’t be happening now. It was still a week before my twenty-second birthday.

  I clenched my jaw, but it only caused them to grind on each other. I was afraid of waking up Ares and having him question me again, but I couldn’t stop the noises.

  Ice clogged my veins. Ice burned in my lungs, my throat, and my eyes.

  It burned worse than fire.

  I muffled a scream, but failed to swallow a pained groan.

  Instantly, Ares was at my side. “Were you having a bad dream, Freyja?” he asked.

  I couldn’t answer. My whole body trembled violently.

  “It’s okay, I’m here,” he said, gathering me into his arms, and my face dropped on his. He pulled me slightly away, eyes widening. “You’re like ice, Freyja.” He freed a hand and tested my neck, arm, and fingers. “Ice,” he confirmed.

  The next thing I knew, he was stripping himself bare. “Let me warm you.”

  He moved inside my icy bedroll and his warrior’s body heat was like a small sun. I clung to him like a leech, yet I still shivered from the unquenchable cold.

  He started to undressed me. “We’ll have to do this so you’ll get more heat from me.” He left me with only my underwear. His bulge of erection pressed against my icy belly. “I won’t do anything. I’ll only warm you up.”

  I wouldn’t mind if he wanted to do something. While the cursed ice coursed through my body, the fire of lust also licked me.

  I’d wanted Ares ever since his first touch set me ablaze.

  He wrapped around me tightly, and I pressed my freezing, hungry skin against his hot one. Gradually, I stopped trembling as the cold burn receded.

  I wouldn’t let him go, afraid of the ice would return.

  He held me for a long time, and I barely moved, not wanting him to pry me off him.

  He inhaled my scent deeply before whispering in my ear, “Freyja?”

  “Uh?” I answered, my teeth no longer clattering.

  “Are you still cold?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But your body is warm now.”

  “Is it?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll hold you like this to keep you warm until you fall asleep.”

  “Only if you want to,” I said.

  “You can be very sweet when you want to be,” he said.

  “You think?” I asked. Since I was warm and comfortable, I felt sleepy.

  “It hurt me more than anything that you thought I’d harm you,” he said. “It hurt more than the truth that you wanted me dead.”

  I never thought I had the power to hurt his feelings. I thought I was but his means, his trial, his lust, and his prisoner, and nothing more.

  “I never wanted you dead,” I said. “If I truly wanted you dead, you would be.”

  “But how could you even think I would kill you?” h
e asked, his voice ragged.

  “You looked frightening. You slashed that long sword in the air like a mad man, and your eyes were red.”

  “Even so, I would never harm a hair on your head. Couldn’t you learn to trust me a bit more?”

  “But I’m sleepy now,” I said, thankful for his warmth.

  “Sleep then,” he said. “I’ll hold you the whole night.” He brushed a kiss on my head.

  A strange, tender feeling swelled in my chest.

  I pressed my face against his bare chest. I’d wondered how it would feel to have his strong shoulder as a pillow, and now I had it under my head.

  His arms tightened around me and his large, hard erection still pressed on my belly. I wouldn’t object if he stuck it between my thighs.

  Yet neither of us made a move. Only our breath mingled.

  “You don’t just ask people to trust you,” I murmured. Trust was never a free gift.

  “What did I do, other than abduct you, to give you the impression that I can’t be trusted?”

  “You want your witch more than anyone and anything. You’ll do whatever takes to get her. If hurting me is the way to have her, you’ll hurt me.”

  He was silent for a long while, then said quietly, “I’ve given you a reason not to trust me, but I won’t harm you, no matter what.”

  “Don’t promise what you can’t deliver, Highness,” I said. “I understand why you must do what you do. You have to protect your interest, and the witch is your great interest. As you said, I’m the test you need to pass, the obstacle you need to overcome, to get your final prize—her.”

  “It isn’t like that,” he said, then he didn’t say anything more. I felt his throat moved as he swallowed hard.

  “Sleep,” he said. “You’ll need your energy tomorrow.”

  That alarmed me.

  “What do I need my energy for if we aren’t doing anything tomorrow but waiting for the guardians to recover?”

  “We’ll be doing something. It’ll be our turn to patrol the air. We need to earn our keep.”

  “Why do I need to earn my keep?” I asked. “I told you I’m not your soldier. My sole function is to lead you to the witch. You can’t assign me other errands to wear me out.”