“Lilith, please. Let me go. I have to help you, I—” he says, looking at me with indecision on his face. He breaks through his trance and pulls his eyebrows together before frantically drawing a circle around us.
Finally, he places his fingers under my chin and lifts my face to plant a soft kiss to my lips. I kiss him back, and when I open my eyes again, he’s gone.
“Clio?” I cry out, searching desperately for him.
I struggle to stand up, and that’s when I finally feel the pain in my side. The cut bleeds; it’s deep. I fall onto my hands and knees, the movement shuffling the dirt around me as I stare at the ground a foot beneath my face. I watch as a tear sinks into the soil, and I let out a scream of frustration as I punch the ground.
I’m supposed to be The Sage’s successor, the second strongest witch in the Land of Five, and I couldn’t even save any of the people who matter the most to me.
The foliage rustles nearby, and I look up, desperate to see Clio. “Clio?”
Three figures emerge suddenly, and I feel my heart sink in my chest as I realize they aren’t Clio…or The Council. They’re males, each of an impressive size. They adorn cloaks decorated with the same colors I had noticed on Iris and Chastity—they’re Elementals.
I let out a squeal of fear and try to stand up. Pain flows through my right side, and I collapse to my knees, further disturbing the wards Clio had placed around me.
“Help,” I try to call, but no sound passes my lips.
“Don’t fight us,” one of them says as he approaches me.
A tear runs down my face, and I clamp my eyes shut as I prepare for the inevitable—my death. I hear their footsteps approach, and when I open my eyes again, they’re surrounding me. I gaze into the silvery eyes of the one that had spoken.
His gaze is hypnotizing, and I feel an odd tingling that starts in my fingers before passing slowly up my arms. As soon as the sensation passes to other parts of my body, I realize the skin it travels through turns numb and relaxed, completely useless. When it reaches my chest, I gasp and struggle to catch my breath as spots begin to dance in my vision.
The last of my strength quickly runs out, and I can no longer hold myself up. Arms snake under my body before I hit the dirt.
As my mind begins to cut to black, I’m left with a final haunting thought—death is more peaceful than I ever would’ve guessed.
The Elemental Coven (The Witch's Ambitions Trilogy Book Two)
With the Land of Five being systematically torn apart by war, Ignis witch, Lilith Lace, has a number of problems before her. Captured in the Battle of Ignis by The Elemental Coven, she must deal with the recent deaths of her loved ones as a prisoner of war. Mind torn between escaping and giving up completely, Lilith is presented with a new surprise—infamous rough witch, Willow, is not only alive and well but has a larger role in Lilith’s childhood accident than she ever imagined.
Everything’s changing. Friends are becoming enemies and enemies are becoming friends. Will Lilith finally get to the bottom of her past among the ranks of The Elemental Coven or will they hurt her worse than anything she’s encountered so far?
Chapter One
Prisoner
MOST PEOPLE ASSUME that life is like a game of chess—each decision cold, calculating, and ultimately leading toward one large goal…our purpose in life, whatever that may be. I’ve never agreed with that idea. To me, life is more like Jenga; we stack decisions on top of one another without a guide or any real idea of what we’re doing. One wrong move causes it to all come crashing down, leaving you to deal with the ruins your life has become.
The worst part of it all? There’s no precision, no warning until it becomes too much. And there’s simply no way to make it stop. Shit happens. Plain and simple.
And that’s the vague version of how I’ve ended up here…wherever here actually is.
It’s the silence that wakes me.
After the chaos on the battlefield, it’s unsettling how loud nothing can be. Have I gone deaf? Have I died?
My mind is a hazy web of confusion that proves violent the longer the moment stretches on. I try to wiggle my fingers but it’s hard. Considering I had been completely paralyzed, I’m already making remarkable process. I strain harder, trying to sit up and open my eyes when pain like razors shoots through my ribs where I had sustained the most damage. Memories flood my mind at the realization of my consciousness, and I cry out though I’m not sure if it’s from pain or shock.
Can I call it luck that I’m still alive or is it more of a curse at this point?
My face hurts from the hard surface I’m lying on—pain shoots all the way down my neck every time I move—but as everything comes flooding back, I hardly notice. I’m a prisoner of war and it doesn’t take much wisdom to know things will only go downhill from here. Maybe it would have been better to just let the darkness swallow me whole. For all the effort the Elemental Coven went through to get their hands on me, I don’t see them simply letting me go.
I force my eyes open, suddenly fearing the idea of not being alone in this place. Wherever I am, it’s dark. I can’t see no matter where I try to look, but it’s probably for the best. If my situation is as dire as I imagine, I most likely won’t want to see what’s waiting for me. I strain for the smallest sound but all I hear is the blood pounding in my ears.
Only slightly relieved, I try to move again, but my wrists are firmly bound in front of me. I struggle to get the bonds off, sending fresh waves of pain through my body, and grit my teeth to keep from crying out again. I might be alone for the moment, but as it stands, I have no idea where my captors are.
They could be watching me through magic surveillance for all I know, waiting for me to wake up so the torture can begin. Images of bleeding and burned witches flash through my head, switching me to panic mode, but I manage to reel my mind in long enough to untie the ropes on my wrists with my telekinesis. A sigh of relief passes my lips when it thumps to the floor, and I rub at the tender skin.
I try to stand to my feet, but my weak leg has absolutely no interest in responding to me. I slam back to the floor on the verge of either screaming or crying…I’m not sure which. Mind racing to form any two-bit plan manageable, my hand accidentally grazes my side, and I feel the cuts…every single one. Oddly enough, it’s not physical pain that comes in that moment, it’s emotional.
My wounds are nothing. Only one pain truly matters: Helena’s death.
Murdered in the Battle of Ignis by the same witch who did this to me.
Why aren’t I dead too? I think and let out a slow wail of agony that sounds more animalistic than human. That horrible existence is the one I’m trying to go back to, isn’t it? The one without my best friend. I chomp my teeth into my bottom lip to stop it from quivering. Crying never helped me before, and it certainly won’t do the trick now.
But how can I do anything else? Helena’s not the only one I lost. My parents died too. And Clio…I’m not sure. He abandoned me in the middle of the war leaving my anxiety to try to guess why. The Clio I knew would never do such a thing. I trust him with my life so the thought he might’ve left me for dead is too much to bear.
Is he dead too? It’s the only answer that makes sense.
It’s nothing short of a miracle that I’m alive, I guess, but my death was never really part of their plan. They need me for something…though what that something is I haven’t the foggiest.
I’m the most useless of all the witches on The Council. I can hardly control my powers…hell, I can barely walk…but I’m here to stay, even without their pathetic restraints. My leg is making sure of that.
Where are they, my captors?
Eyes the color of a violent thunderstorm fill my mind as I rack my brain in a desperate attempt to pull out my last memory before unconsciousness had claimed me. It doesn’t help to remember, not much anyway, and I know I’m doing it because I don’t want to forget how I messed up, how I doomed myself to this fate.
I had been so ready to fight just a few minutes ago, but I can’t. The more I try, the more I feel the confines of my cage. It isn’t a good feeling, being completely and utterly helpless, but here I am. It hurts to admit I’m weak, but there’s no way around it. Not anymore.
As I sit in the dark, I contemplate my options. Do I call for help or try to make a break for it?
What would a sane person do in this situation? I have no idea, not even a faint inkling.
I sit up, cracking the light scabs across my ribs to serve as an instant answer to my dilemma. Between my leg and the injuries sustained in battle, I’m in no shape to go anywhere. Even a boost of adrenaline won’t get me far in this condition.
Despite it, there’s something that doesn’t want to back down, that can’t give up. I struggle to stand again, erupting pain in all my damaged areas. Before their death, I had thought my parent’s betrayal was the worst pain I could face.
It’s ridiculous how wrong I was.
I collapse back to the floor with an audible thump, fight completely gone. I ball my hands into fists and whack my knuckles against the hard floor until they begin to bleed. What’s the point of going on? If everyone I love is dead, where can I go even if I do happen to escape?
Nowhere.
And for some reason, nowhere is the only place I want to be. I want to disconnect, to be away from it all. With the walls closing in, death seems to be my best option, and I’m ready to accept it with open arms. When that thought fades back into the void it emerged from, I digest it. I had been the brightest witch in my Coven. How did it come to this? I’m not a bad person.
That thought makes me burst into a fit of giggles. I don’t even believe it myself.
Chastity’s body on the pyre reminds me what kind of person I actually am. I was the one who took her life. She was younger than me, and now she’s dead. When I get right down to it, I’m not much better than the ones who kidnapped me. So why do I feel like I am?
It’s ironic really.
When I thought I was going to die, I fought to live…I chose to live no matter what the cost…now I’m regretting it. I’m not sure why I ever tried to change my fate. This was always it.
I don’t have to be clairvoyant to know that.
Alive for the moment, I’m dying on the inside, and the whole process is agonizingly slow.
It’s probably better not to fight, to shorten my endless march to the grave, and all the years of pain that could accompany it. But how can I just give up now, after everything? After the price Helena paid?
I’m lost.
Not in the temporary sense, not anymore. It’s become part of my persona, the very fabric of my being.
And it’s absolutely terrifying.
Time has no meaning in this dark pit I’ve wound up in. I could rock myself to madness in the span of five minutes here. It won’t make a difference. When the door finally opens, it could be two hours later or two days, I have no idea. I groan at the light slowly trickling into my personal Hell as the moment drags on. I blink and the light gets stronger but it doesn’t seem right. It’s watery as if I’m seeing through a filter. No matter how many times I open and close my eyes, that doesn’t change.
I must’ve been out longer than I realized.
If my captors are coming in here to kill me, I wish they’d get it over with already. I can’t run, I can’t fight, and now to make matters worse, I can’t even see.
The light proves too much for me when I hear the door creak open to its extent. I lift a hand to block some of the brightness but it doesn’t help. To make it worse, I know someone is standing there, watching me, but my vision won’t cooperate to let me see who it is. They’re a shadowy outline, a mass of nothingness.
“Finally come to torture me?” I sneer, hoping my captor has no idea that I’m temporarily blind.
Whoever it is is silent for a long moment and I wish I could see them more than ever. What are they doing in this moment? Watching me? Brandishing a knife or some other primitive weapon to find ways to strip me of my dignity that The Council hasn’t thought of?
The possibilities are endless.
“At least you’re not in shock anymore,” a deep voice finally says.
My jaw sets. Even without my sight, I know who it is. That voice—he’s my kidnapper…the one with the silver eyes who had snatched me from the battle that most likely destroyed my entire Coven.
“You,” I snarl, trying to move my body away from the light and grimacing in pain in response. If his eyes are on me, there’s no way he missed that response.
“Tensions are high, I understand that, but you must listen to me when I tell you we won’t hurt you.”
That’s the opposite of what I expect. I scoff, softly at first, but within a minute the sound turns to a chaotic stream of laughter like a madman. “You won’t?” I lift my arm to reveal the myriad of bleeding wounds down my ribs. Even if I can’t see them, he can, and I hope they look as bad as I imagine they do. “You killed my best friend…my parents…everything’s gone because of you.”
“We’re in the middle of a war,” he states as if that answer makes every tragedy his people have inflicted okay. So many people are hurting right now and he doesn’t give them a second thought.
Typical asshole.
“How can you be so cold?” I whisper. “How can you not care?”
“Think what you will. I can’t say I blame you, but everything we do has reason, a purpose.”
If that’s the truth, I already know why I’m here. I’m The Council’s pride and joy. What better way to strike a nerve than by destroying me? “Just kill me then. I have no information for you…Hell, I barely know anything about my own life. You’re wasting both our time.”
“I just told you we aren’t going to hurt you, and I’m not here for information either,” he says and his voice is louder. He’s closer.
“Then go away.”
“I can’t do that, Lilith. I have orders,” he replies.
That can’t be good. “Leave me alone,” I growl, swiping out blindly though I have no idea if he’s close enough to hit.
“Relax. You’re hurt, Lilith. I need to take you to our Healer.”
I have no way to respond to that. Words fail me. After everything my loved ones have suffered through, why in the world do their executioners care if I live or die? Why am I so important that I’m still alive and they’re gone forever?
That’s what the whole thing has been about, remember? Chastity warned you in Mentis that this would happen.
I freeze at the voice. I had heard it only once before, at Chastity’s execution, but I have no idea who it belongs to.
Swallowing heavily, I push away my unease. The voice most likely belongs to another Elemental but who? And why contact me now when things already look so dire? Are they in the room too? I pause at the idea that I don’t know how many of them are here. I want to believe there’s just my kidnapper but why would it be so simple?
Nothing else in my life has been.
A hand grasps my elbow and a scream leaves my lips. In the confusion of the voice in my mind, I had forgotten about my kidnapper. “Get away!” I bark out, but he doesn’t stop.
He pulls me up with ease and as soon as my feet hit the floor, I forget about my fear. The pain in my ribs is all I feel…all I can feel. It jolts through my body like electricity, and I scream out in pain, ready to collapse again.
“I’m sorry, Lilith. I know this hurts,” he says but I pay him no mind as he pulls me across the room.
My mind shuts down too overwhelmed by the mix of pain and fear to function properly and my world turns black.
***
WHEN MY EYELIDS flutter open again, I’m lying on a table with my bare shoulders digging into cold metal. My eyesight is still faulty so I depend on my other senses to give me a picture of what kind of danger I’m in now. A light breeze tickles the skin on my shoulders and I sit up with the realization of how much of me is bare under the light blanket
I feel draped across my torso.
I screech at the fresh wave of pain shooting into me and that’s met with instant protest. “Don’t move too much, Lilith.”
My pain disappears at the familiarity of the voice—it’s Ambrossi.
About The Author
Kayla Krantz is the proud author responsible for Dead by Morning, fascinated by the dark and macabre. Stephen King is her all-time inspiration mixed in with a little bit of Eminem and some faint remnants of the works of Edgar Allen Poe. When she began writing, she started in horror but somehow drifted into thriller. She loves the 1988 movie Heathers. Kayla was born and raised in Michigan but traveled across the country to where she currently resides in Texas.
She has ideas for books in many genres which she hopes to write and publish in the future.
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twitter.com/kaylathewriter9
Other Works By This Author
Dead by Morning
(Rituals of the Night Book One)
Obsession is deadly. No one learns that better than Luna Ketz, a pessimistic high school senior. She wishes more than anything to graduate but things don't always go as planned. Luna quickly finds herself trapped in a web of lies and murders, spun by the least suspected person in her hometown. It's not long before she realizes she's being targeted by the person she despises most in the world. When Luna figures out who is behind the killings, things make a turn for the bizarre when she is contacted by a friend she has not heard from in years. It is then Luna realizes she is very much in danger, but although she can avoid the killer in reality, she cannot avoid him in her dreams.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
The Council Page 32
