by Bailey Dark
The two of them are silent, their eyes raking over me. It sends shivers trailing up and down my spine. I feel like an animal in a slaughterhouse. Finally, one of the women speaks, “She doesn’t look a thing like Maaz, does she?”
Her companion cackles. Cackles like a witch in the stories. I flinch back at the sound. “Doesn’t have her courage either. Look how frightened she is, like a little mouse in a trap.”
“Maaz will certainly be pleased though,” the first one quips. “She’ll be crowing when she sees we’ve brought her that stupid Fae’s prized possession.”
I listen as the two of them congratulate each other, eyes darting between them. It’s as if they don’t know I can hear them. Or they simply don’t care. Whatever they are, they aren’t Fae. Their ears aren’t pointed, and they lack the elegance of the Fae. Whatever these women are, they remind me of spiders.
“You would think the beast would have kept watch over her more carefully,” one snorts. “It was too easy to snatch her up.”
The other laughs. “The key to saving himself and his kingdom and he just lets her wander the ground alone? If that’s how seriously he’s taking the curse, then he deserved to lose her!”
Curse? Key? My brows furrow in confusion as the witches banter back and forth. What the hell are they talking about? I shift, but the sound immediately draws their attention back to me. Their lips curl upwards into cruel grins as they take in my frightened expression.
“Look, the poor dear is scared,” the first one says in a high-pitched, mocking tone.
I purse my lips, anger flaring within me. “Who are you? What do you want from me?” I can’t keep my voice from quivering.
“Nakarr,” the first one says. “Because when I suckled at my mother’s teat, I drank the blood as greedily as I did the milk.”
“Tegmine,” the second one says. “Because Sadal Melik himself came to me under the full moon and gave me this scar.” She lifts her forearm to display a jagged mess of flesh at the bottom of her elbow.
“He did not,” Nakarr snaps, glowering at Tegmine.
My lips part in confusion and fear as they bicker. I don’t know where I am or who these women are, but I’m more frightened than I was before. Their names are dark and menacing, as equally disturbing as their explanations.
“How dare you take the Ancient One in your name,” Nakarr snarls.
Tegmine slaps her, the sound echoing through the cave. I flinch back, eyes wide with fear. “We must not speak of him anymore,” she hisses.
They fall silent before Nakarr turns to me, “We haven’t asked our Sister’s name.”
Sister? I shake my head, pressing myself even further into the cold wall. “You must have me confused with someone else, I don’t know you. I have no sisters, I’m an only child.”
“Not that kind of Sister,” Tegmine purrs. “The true Sister, born of blood that has taken the same oath we have. The oath of the Bloodbane witches. The oath to serve the Ancient One.”
Bloodbane witches? I had heard Acubens mention them to Navi before, they’re enemies. “I’m human,” I say.
Nakarr shakes her head. “The oath is strong in your blood.”
“That’s impossible,” I mumble. “I have a human mother and a human father. I’ve never met a witch before, besides the occasional Wiccan.”
“What is this Wiccan?” Tegmine asks. “Enemies of the Bloodbane?”
“They don’t even know the Bloodbane,” I say hurriedly, hoping I haven’t just doomed any Wiccan that happens to stumble across a Bloodbane witch. “My point is I can’t be your Sister.”
Tegmine rushes towards me and I feel my heart skip a beat at the sight. She snatches my forearm and grips it tightly, her sharp nails pricking my skin. “Do you feel that?”
I begin to shake my head furiously but stop. I can feel my blood thrumming. It’s like I can feel every single drop of it in my veins rushing through me. A sensitivity to my own life force I’ve never felt before. My heart pumps faster, nerves coiling my stomach. I don’t want it to be true. “What is that?” I murmur.
Temine smiles and releases my arm. “That is the oath.”
“How?” I breathe.
The two women exchange a dark glance. “That will be for Maaz to tell you. If she lets you live.”
“If she lets me live?” I echo in disbelief. “What am I doing here? Why did you take me in the first place?”
Tegmine scowls. “We cannot let the Fae king have anyone of the Bloodbane witches.”
“Why not?” My brows furrow in confusion.
“Only one with the oath in her blood can break the curse Maaz put on him,” Nakarr says, her lips pulled into a smirk. “But no Bloodbane witch would betray her Sisters, not for some Fae king.”
“What curse? Why would Maaz put a curse on him?” This is the first I’ve heard of Maaz, though I suspect she leads the Bloodbane witches.
“Altair refused Maaz many years ago.” Nakarr shakes her head. “The stupid Fae thought she was below him.”
Tegmine cackles. “His pride is now his doom.”
I open my mouth to question them further when suddenly there’s a deep rumbling from the front of the cave. Tegmine rises and slips a dagger from her belt. She stalks towards the entrance of the cave warily.
“Get up,” Nakarr hisses. She wrenches me to my feet, and I feel that thrumming in my veins again.
Tegmine steps into the sunlight. Suddenly, a clawed paw bulldozes into her, sending her flying. She screams, and Nakarr shouts for her. I watch as Tegmine whirls on her attacker as it steps into view. A giant black panther with the wings of crows. Acubens.
“Nakarr!” Tegmine shouts.
Nakarr tosses me to the ground, I land with a sharp cry. “Stay put,” she snaps, plunging towards Acubens.
I haul myself up, using the wall for support and stumble after her. The two witches dance around Acubens as he swats at them with his massive paws and snaps his teeth at them. My ears are ringing from hitting my head against the wall after Nakarr forced me back down. I don’t know if going back to Altair is a good choice, based on what the witches have told me.
But what I do know is Maaz might kill me. And her temper is volatile enough to put a curse on a man who rejected her. I’m not sure I would be safer with her than with Altair. After all, he hasn’t hurt me yet.
At the entrance of the cave, I watch as Acubens’ teeth close around Nakarr’s arm. She shrieks in pain and drives her blade towards him. Tegmine, on his other side, has her own blade plummeting towards him. I scream, loud enough that birds erupt from the trees and scatter across the sky. Acubens drops Nakarr’s arm in time to dodge her blow, but Tegmine manages to drive her long dagger into his ribs.
He stumbles, hissing, and knocks her away with his sheer weight. She falls to the ground a yard away, struggling to rise. Nakarr cradles her arm, blood pouring over her fingers. Acubens turns to me, his face twisted in pain. “Get on,” he commands.
I run towards him and clamber on top of his back, nestled just above his wings. With a roar, he beats his wings and lifts us off of the ground. Below us, Tegmine swipes at him, and I hear him grunt as her sword swipes against his exposed belly.
But then we’re too high for them to strike us. I watch as the two Bloodbane witches retreat into the cave, trailing blood behind them. Acubens is silent, the only sound is the constant beating of his wings and the drum of his heart. I tangle my fingers in his fur, nausea welling within me as I realize just how high off the ground we really are.
“Acubens,” I mumble. “It’s too high.”
“Shut up,” he snaps. But he descends low enough that we’re skimming the tree line.
I breathe a sigh of relief and lean over him. His fur is soft and his body is warm. It helps against the wind chill. “Thank you,” I say, clutching him tighter.
He doesn’t respond. We ride in silence together as I consider what the witches told me. I don’t know what it means to be a Bloodbane witch, but I can’t de
ny that I felt something inside me. Some power that I don’t know how to tap into yet. I don’t know if I want to though. Not if it makes me like them. Hard and cruel and wicked.
The steady beating of Acubens’ wings falters and we drop sharply before he catches us again. “Acubens?” My brows twitch together with concern and fear.
“Almost there,” he murmurs, his voice laced with pain.
I can see the castle rearing up before us, details slowly coming into view. I feel a sense of relief at the sight of it. The sun is setting, casting an orange glow over the facade. When I’m in the castle grounds, the stones look dark and the structure is menacing. But here, soaring towards it, I can see the delicate turrets and the detailed spires. It’s right out of a fairy tale.
Acubens lurches as we pass over the wall. I can hear worried shouting below us, I see Navi and some of her soldiers waiting along the road. We drift over them unsteadily, descending lower and lower. I resist the urge to clench my eyes shut as the ground soars closer. Acubens’ paws stumble as we land, running to a stop. His wings sag against the ground and he pants heavily.
When we’ve stopped, I slip off of him, trying to maneuver with my long skirts. Acubens slumps to the ground, groaning in pain. And then I see the blood coating his belly and his ribs, matting his fur. My eyes widen at the sight of it. His hazel eyes are on me, his mouth slack. I bite my lip, brows furrowed as I meet his gaze.
Suddenly, Navi pushes past me, shoving me roughly aside. I catch myself and watch as she calls for healers. Soldiers and servants crowd around Acubens, a few run off in search of healers. Navi rests a hand on Acubens side and whispers to him so softly I can’t catch her words. But they seem to bring Acubens some comfort. He closes his eyes and his breath steadies.
The healer pushes through the crowd just as the last rays of the sun disappear behind the mountains in the distance. Caught in the dusky light of the evening, I watch in shock as Acubens’ wings curl back into his body and as his frame shrinks to the size of a man’s. His fur disappears, replaced with riding leathers and boots and normal skin. His face morphs slowly, the ears slimming and lengthening to Fae ears.
The servant’s light torches for the healers to work by. My jaw is slack, eyes wide, as I stare down at Altair. Blood seeps from the wounds in his belly and side. The only remaining indication that Acubens and Altair are one and the same.
Chapter 9
Altair
The first thing I notice is the pain. A sharp sting in my side and in my belly, like a burn. Then I notice the light against my eyelids. But it’s not daylight, it’s candlelight. I open my eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the light.
I see the green embroidered fabric of my canopy above me. So, I’m in my room. The last thing I remember is landing in the courtyard with Verity. Verity. I sit up, eyes wild. Pain lances through my body, and I hiss, clenching my eyes shut. The Fae heal faster than mortals, and even witches, but the wound is still fresh.
I ease back down, wincing as my abdomen straightens again. “That’s not a very kingly look,” Verity says. I turn, a little startled to see her seated at my bedside. She studies my face, her blue eyes dancing over my features. “But I suppose it’s more kingly than a jaguar.”
“What are you talking about?” I rasp, narrowing my eyes at her. By the codes of the curse, I can’t affirm anything she has to say about the curse until she says it directly.
She cocks her head at me. “I know you turn into a beast during the day. I know you’re Acubens. And I know it’s a curse.”
Relief floods through me. She knows. I’ve wanted to tell her since I first spoke to her the morning she regained consciousness. I only wish I could tell her more. But if I speak anymore of the curse, we’ll have no hope of changing it. I can only believe that Verity is clever enough to realize why I’ve brought her here.
I start in surprise as her cool hand slips into mine. She laces her fingers through mine, holding me loosely. I look at her curiously, but she’s staring down at our entwined hands. “You must think you’re so clever,” she murmurs.
“What?” I ask.
She turns her fierce eyes on me. “You must think you’re so clever for tricking me into believing that you and Acubens are different. And that I might have an ally in him.”
I give her a crooked grin. “Only because I knew you intended to use him against me.”
“What him?” She scoffs. “I don’t like being tricked.”
“Neither do I,” I quip.
Verity is so obstinate. Even in the face of her own actions, she insists on painting me as the villain. It’s almost charming. Her blue eyes glimmer in the candlelight as she studies me with interest. She’s never looked at me this long before. Usually, she looks away, insisting on ignoring me. Her tongue wets her lips as her eyes fall upon my face and I feel a surge of desire flood through me.
“Thank you,” she says softly.
I lean closer to her, ignoring the pain that shoots through me. I grin slyly. “What was that?”
She rolls her eyes, but I see a smile teasing her lips. “Thank you,” she says louder.
“You’re welcome,” I say, dipping my chin to her.
“So, what’s going on with these mysterious Bloodbane witches?” She asks, propping her chin in her free hand. “Are they Fae?”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Do they look like Fae?”
“Don’t be so sensitive,” she says, but I see amusement in her eyes.
“Now who thinks they’re clever?” I ask, cocking a brow at her.
“It’s my revenge,” she says. “These witches… why do they hate the Fae?”
“Besides the obvious fact that we’re much better looking, I can’t say,” I muse.
Verity rolls her eyes. “I had no idea you were so vain.”
“I’ve been waiting to surprise you, to show you that there are some downfalls to my charming personality,” I say.
“So charming,” she agrees, squeezing my hand a little tighter. “Navi told me you would recover quickly.”
I nod. “The Fae heal quickly, much faster than mortals. In two days, I won’t even have a scar.”
“That’s unbelievable,” she murmurs. “What else makes the Fae different?”
“Longevity, some magic, speed, strength,” I say blandly.
“Jealous,” she sighs. “My father almost died you know. And the process they used to cure him almost killed him as well.”
My lips part in surprise at her words. Verity and I haven’t spoken of anything personal, not even when she confided in Acubens. My heart falls at her words. Mortals are so fragile. “I’m sorry,” I say softly.
She shrugs her shoulders, but I can see the sorrow in her eyes. “He’s alright now.”
“What sort of man is he, your father?” I ask. I don’t want her to leave just yet. I want her to stay and tell me everything about her. She’s been on my mind since I brought her to my castle. And while she infuriates me to some degree, I feel an undeniable pull towards her.
“He’s smart and kind. But he’s goofy. When I was a girl, he used to pretend to find a coin behind my ear, and then he would give it to me so I could buy ice cream from the ice cream truck.” She smiles, reminiscing.
“He sounds like a great man,” I say. “I would love to meet him one day.”
Verity laughs, like a bell chiming. “You wouldn’t. He would try to tug your ears off.”
I grimace. Fae ears are extremely sensitive. “That wouldn’t be pleasant.”
She grins and reaches up towards my ears. I snatch her wrist when she’s inches from the tip of my ear. She gasps in surprise and her cheeks color. I release her, dropping my gaze. “I’m sorry. Fae don’t like having our ears touched except under certain circumstances,” I explain. “I hope I didn’t hurt your wrist.”
Verity’s hair bounces softly around her shoulders as she shakes her head. I realize that she’s wearing the same gown she wore the night she was kidnapped. Happiness and satisfaction bl
ooms in my chest as I realize that she came directly to my room after we returned.
“You just surprised me,” she says, curious eyes flitting to my ears again.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize again.
She smiles mischievously. “You know that’s the second time you’ve apologized to me. I’m starting to think your coldness is a facade.”
I paste a look of disinterest on my face. “A momentary lapse.”
“I should go now, let you get your rest,” Verity chuckles.
My face falls as she releases her grip on my hand and stands. Her dress is covered in dust and the fine silk is torn in several places. She gives me a hesitant smile, as if she isn’t sure what to do. We’ve never spoken this long before. And we’ve certainly never spoken this long without arguing. It’s been unexpectedly pleasant, and I’m sorry to see her go. I want her to stay and show me all the different sides of her. I want her to stay and tell me about her family. And I want her to stay and hold me.
My hand snakes towards her and I grab hold of her wrist again. Her eyes dart towards my face in confusion. I tug her towards me, she loses her balance and falls onto my chest. I ignore the pain from the sudden pressure and wrap my arms around her. My lips find hers as my eyes slipped closed.
I kiss her deeply, my lips moving against hers. Desire and passion course through me as she kisses me back. I nip at her bottom lip, my teeth grazing the sensitive flesh there and I feel her body tremble. She moans softly, and the sound sets my blood racing.
I was frightened when I realized she had been taken. Not only because without her, I don’t stand a chance of breaking this curse, but because I worried for her wellbeing. Bloodbane witches can be finnicky and impulsive. They were as likely to treat her well as they were to torture her.
