The Witch Queen

by Juliana Haygert

  “Alex, please,” Dorian said. “Nolan is right. You don’t want to start your reign by condemning a dear prince to death.” I barely contained the gasp that wanted to rip out of my chest. “Let’s investigate this and be smart about it.”

  Alex glared from him to me and back to him.

  His first act. Reign. Then, I saw it. Lord Reynard’s silver cross pendant with the thin chain hanging from Alex’s neck. Somehow, Alex had become Lord of the castle in the last twenty-four hours.

  A heavy ball of dread and disgust sank into my stomach. It seemed my mission in this castle had just gotten a whole lot harder.

  Alex let out a long breath. “All right. We’ll investigate this, but I have two demands. One, Drake will continue being a prince in name only with no real power, he has no voting rights and no voice among the princes anymore. Two, Drake will be executed immediately if he’s lying. The other vampires need to learn what happens if they lie to me, too.”

  Eden and Ralf entered the room then, carrying Thomas with them.

  “My Prince,” Thomas said, looking at me with wide eyes. “What’s happening?” His gaze found the cut across my stomach. “Are you okay?”

  I glared at Alex. “What are you doing?”

  “Someone has to pay,” he said.

  “For what? I wasn’t myself. Even if I committed crimes, it wasn’t me. I was out of my mind and forced to do things I didn’t want to. Thomas has nothing to do with it.”

  “I don’t care,” Alex said. He nodded to Eden and Ralf. “I need to set an example.”

  Eden and Ralf pulled Thomas to the center of the room—toward the guillotine.

  “Alex,” I called out. I pushed Lewis and Holden away and approached Alex. “Please, Alex, he’s a boy. He can’t be punished for my crimes.”

  Alex leaned over me. “Don’t you see you’re the one being punished here?” He then turned and approached the guillotine.

  “No,” I said, stumbling closer. The other princes closed in around me. “Please, Gray, Phelps, Cain … help me here. He can’t do this.”

  Phelps sighed. “He’s the Lord of the castle now. He can do pretty much anything.”

  “We already stopped him from killing you,” Cain said. “That’s all we’ll get from him right now.”

  Despair flooded my senses. No, this couldn’t be it. There had to be a way. Alex couldn’t be this cruel. Except, he was. I knew he was. He had been the cruelest prince I ever met in my five hundred years. He killed humans for pleasure every opportunity he had. Of course he would kill Thomas, a human I cared about, because it angered me and that pleased him immensely.

  “Prince Drake!” Thomas cried as he was pushed down the guillotine and strapped to the sides. “My Prince!” A sob broke his voice. “Please, save me.”

  I pushed through the burn of my injury and charged to the platform. A hand closed around my arm before I made it two steps out.

  “Don’t be stupid,” Cain hissed. “If you interfere in any way, you’re next. And there will be nothing we can do to stop Alex then.”

  He was right. I knew he was right, but it was Thomas. I couldn’t let Thomas die. He had suffered too much in this life already, and it had been because of me. I couldn’t be the reason his life ended, so short and unhappy.

  Ignoring Cain’s words, I pushed through. Only to have too more hands hold me back.

  “If you won’t listen to reason, then we’ll make you,” Gray said.

  “Close your eyes,” Phelps warned.

  But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

  I listened as Thomas’s cries echoed through the room. I watched as the blade came down and his cries stopped. My stomach revolved, and my legs gave out when his head fell on the stone ground with a dull thud.

  Lewis and Holden appeared by my side and held me up. “We’ll take you to the infirmary now.”

  I protested, or at least I thought I did. I opened my mouth to yell, but no sound came out. I jerked against Lewis and Holden, but I was too weak from the blood loss and too shaken to really do anything. They carried me out of the room as the other vampires advanced on Thomas’s fallen body to drink the remaining blood.

  3

  Thea

  A pang cut through my chest as the view changed from the dark, closed forest, to a deep valley and the expansive estate below. The fields extended for miles, and right in the middle sat a sprawling mansion. The enchanted gray stones of the façade were marked by panels of three tall, but narrow windows side-by-side, every ten feet. The tops of the windows were arched, climbing into tiny peaks, before sweeping down. Balconies extended from the stone beneath each set of windows. Potted plants hung from the rails, dangling fuchsias, clematis and ivy. Their fragrance encompassed the estate, even this far from the mansion.

  The Silverblood Estate was the house of all our coven witches.

  My home.

  We crossed the invisible magical barrier that protected us from unwelcomed visitors, and went down the winding path until we reached the main gate. Morda waved her hand and the tall, iron gates opened—only a handful of witches could open the enchanted gate like that. I was certainly not one of them.

  A servant, dressed in plain white pants and a shirt, waited for us at the entrance. He bowed as Morda walked past him. She didn’t acknowledge him. The same happened with the next three servants we crossed—two males and one female. All humans.

  Now, after seeing the blood slaves at DuMoir Castle, I wasn’t sure our servants weren’t slaves after all. They dressed a little better, they had fuller meals, they had a hidden house carved into the side of the hills behind the mansion, and though they weren’t kept behind bars unless they misbehaved or betrayed us, they were still locked away here, forbidden to leave. They had lost their freedom, and I was pretty sure that made them slaves.

  Especially the males.

  Men were treated like toys in our society. The pretty ones were forced to dress inappropriately, without shirts, wearing tight pants or shorts, or wearing nothing at all, and they were used for sex whenever a witch felt like it.

  I shuddered at the thought.

  The doors to the great hall opened, and I took a sharp breath. Imposing and regal, this place never ceased to take my breath away.

  It was wide and long, with shiny gray stone floors that reflected our images, and a curved cathedral ceiling, burdened with heavy crystal chandeliers. Mirrors covered the thick archways, and at the end of the room, three steps led to a raised platform where a throne stood. The chair was supposed to be occupied by our witch queen, but it had been Morda’s for over a hundred years now.

  A handful of witches were already there, at the base of the steps, waiting for us—Adya, Polina, Vera, Liliana, and the rest of the princess’s inner circle. They all bowed to Morda as she approached them.

  “Liliana, dear,” Morda said, reaching for one of them. “You don’t need to bow in your state.” Liliana placed her hands in Morda’s and stood straight.

  My eyes widened as I took in her round belly, and I understood why Morda was being so sweet to her. Liliana was pregnant! I didn’t remember her being pregnant when I left. Maybe she hadn’t known it yet? But it had been a couple of weeks. Perhaps I hadn’t paid attention to that before.

  It was rare for witches to get pregnant. Many tried for years before conceiving, and even then, nothing was certain. Witch pregnancies were difficult and painful, and most of them ended naturally before the six-month mark. By the looks of it, Liliana was further along. A plain miracle.

  “I’m fine, your highness,” Liliana said, smiling. “I think the baby will make it this time.”

  If it was a girl …

  I winced with such thought. Even if a witch made it to the end of the pregnancy and had the baby, it was all for nothing if the baby was a boy. Boys were killed at birth since no man was allowed to carry magic in our society. I had heard of only one baby boy who had been hidden away by his mother and reached adulthood many years before I was born. A warlock. Tha
t was what witches called him. The warlock was found and killed anyway.

  I confess I had never stopped to think how barbaric and cruel our society was. It was only after spending time with the vampires and seeing their cruelties toward humans, toward me, that I understood. That I felt such pain.

  It disgusted me.

  Morda placed her hand on Liliana’s belly. “By all that is sacred, let’s hope so.”

  Liliana grinned in delight. I knew how she felt. It wasn’t easy to be praised by Morda—and she and I had received such attention today. I bet Liliana was one of Morda’s priorities now, while I would be forgotten once I handed the heart to Morda.

  As if they could read my thoughts, two witchguards, dressed in their thick black and silver armor, came into the room through one of the side doors, carrying a big polished box by its silver handles. With a bow, they deposited the box in front of Morda, then opened the lid.

  Morda turned to me. “Please, Thea, bring out the heart.”

  For some reason, my hands shook as I reached inside my purse and pulled out the heart. As it had before, the heart’s beating grew faster in my hands, and I felt its power brushing against me.

  With a huge smile, Morda took the heart from me, cradling it like a precious newborn, and lifted it high. “Our coven’s heart is back!” she cried.

  The witches in the room shouted in response, unaware of the shock that came when the heart was snatched from me. Stolen. That was how it felt.

  “What a feat, Thea,” Soraya said, her cool eyes drawing goose bumps from my arms. “Congratulations in successfully completing your mission.”

  “It was my duty,” I said, an automatic answer that left a sour taste to my mouth. Until a few weeks ago, I would have laid my life down for this coven without hesitation. Now? Now I was questioning every single thing they did or said.

  While the other witches congratulated me, Morda stared at the heart with hungry eyes. We all knew she had tried being the queen of our coven many, many times, before the heart was stolen, but it still rejected her now.

  Morda deposited it in the red velvet lining of the box, then closed it. She beckoned for the same two witchguards to take the box away, probably to return it to the sanctuary, a sacred place at the top of the tower on the west side of the mansion. After another bow to our princess, the two witchguards scurried out of the room, taking the heart with them.

  A heavy ball expanded in my chest.

  I felt like they were taking my own heart away.

  “We have the heart back now,” Morda started, and the witches calmed down. “But not all is well yet.” She looked at me. “Blackmarsh, Bluemoon, and the other covens are getting bolder. They’ve been on the move, and since the rumors that Lord Reynard fell within his own castle have spread, there has been unrest.” A wicked grin appeared on her red lips. “Tell me, Thea, is Lord Reynard really dead, or is that a rumor the vampires are spreading as a trap to get us?”

  I gulped. “It’s true. He was killed my first night in the castle.”

  “Fabulous. Who killed him?”

  “The oracle.”

  “Sarki?” Morda’s brow slammed down. “But I had always heard she was devoted to him.”

  “It was a facade. She hated the man.”

  “And where’s she now?”

  “Dead.”

  Morda’s eyes widened. “What happened?”

  “She was hiding our coven’s heart, not Lord Reynard. So I killed her.”

  The smile that spread over her entire face sent a chill down my spine.

  But it was Soraya who spoke next. “You killed the oracle? And to think you were one of our weakest. Well done, Thea. Really well done.”

  “As I was saying.” Morda took back the spotlight. “The other covens are on the move and they have witch queens.” An invisible weight fell over all of us. It was an embarrassment to not have a queen. “If we want to win … By all that is sacred, if we want to survive what’s coming, we need a witch queen.”

  Whispers started. I guess everyone was wondering the same as me. How would we find a witch queen? Although the heart gave strength and magic to the entire coven, it contained power that was only granted to one who was worthy, to a witch it chose to yield its special magic. And so far, the heart hadn’t chosen a conduit in over a hundred years. A coven would lose its magic without a heart, but without a witch queen? A coven wouldn’t survive forever without a queen, as the queen was its ultimate protector. And since the other covens were aware of our situation—heartless and queen-less—they had finally started to move on us. We had the heart back now, but unless Morda found a coven member who could be the witch queen, I had no idea how she would solve this problem.

  “We can all agree with that,” Soraya said. “But how do you intend to find our queen?”

  “We will produce one,” Morda announced with a smile. “In order to save the coven, one of us must produce the queen. Every witch in the coven must become pregnant to heighten the chances of producing an offspring the heart will accept as queen.”

  I gasped as the reality of the situation fell over me. Get pregnant? To get pregnant, one had to have sex. A woman needed a man.

  I needed Drake.

  “That sounds a little drastic,” I dared to say. All eyes fell on me, but none of them shot me with invisible fireballs like Morda.

  “Drastic times call for drastic measures,” Morda said, her voice devoid of emotion. “This is not open to negotiation. All witches of this coven, regardless of their rank, will try to produce an heir starting immediately.” She turned to Liliana with a fake smile. “Not you, dear. You’ve already succeeded.” Then, she beckoned toward the doors behind us. “Go now. All of you. Go to your rooms and do your duty to the coven.”

  Six witchguards stepped forward and closed in on us, ushering us out without having to lay a finger on us.

  My hands trembled as I followed them like an obedient little witch. The witchguards took us up the main staircase and into the hallway leading to our bedrooms. Like a convoy, we stopped only long enough to allow a witch inside her bedroom before moving on to the next door.

  My bedroom was next, and I was relieved I could hide in there. I had no idea how and when Morda wanted us to get pregnant. Was she planning some sort of party with the men, so the witches could easily take them to bed? If that were the case, then I had to come up with an excuse as to why I couldn’t go. Like, I was so exhausted after my mission or I was sick.

  Morda wouldn’t buy that lame excuse.

  Regardless, once I was inside my bedroom, I could relax for a few minutes before having to worry about a plan—how was I going to not sleep with a stranger.

  The witchguards paused in front of my door.

  Without acknowledging them, I pushed my door open and hurried inside. I locked the door and leaned against it, letting out a long, relieved sigh.

  “Lady Thea?”

  I stared at the man in front of me—a man wearing what seemed like a loincloth that only covered his male bits, leaving his entire torso bare.

  I gaped. “Who are you?”

  4

  Drake

  The healer dipped a cotton ball in a bowl with a green paste.

  “This is gonna hurt,” she said.

  I braced myself, but the burn that came when she spread that green paste and its foul smell over my wound was much stronger than I had anticipated. I groaned and jerked, cursing the devil and all his offspring. I was sure I would have given in to the pain—and everything else taking over my mind, my soul—and I would have lunged at the poor healer, squeezing the life out of her body, if Lewis and Holden hadn’t held me and pressed me back against my bed.

  My bed, where Thea and I had made love for the first time.

  My bed, in my chambers, where Thomas was supposed to be safe.

  “Get out!” I barked.

  Trembling, the healer gathered her stuff and ran.

  “Calm down, my Prince,” Holden said, still pushing me d
own. “You’ll scare the entire castle away like this.”

  “Good,” was my reply. Let them go. Then, I wouldn’t have to come up with a plan to take over the castle. It would be mine by default.

  “Prince Drake, please, try to relax or—”

  “Relax!” I cut Lewis off and finally broke free of their hold. I sat up in my bed and snarled at them. “They just killed Thomas for no good reason, and I’m supposed to relax?”

  “If you don’t, Lord Alex will be more suspicious than he already is,” Holden said.

  Lord Alex. I hated hearing that title in front of his name. He didn’t deserve it.

  I forced my face to relax and pinched my brows together, as if I were confused. “Suspicious of what?”

  “Of your memory loss,” Holden said in a low voice.

  “You don’t believe me?”

  Holden and Lewis exchanged a glanced. Then Lewis cleared his throat. “We’re definitely not judging, my Prince, but it does seem rather convenient that the witch had you under her control.”

  I pressed my mouth together. Holden and Lewis had been my men for centuries now, and I knew I could trust them, but for some reason, I didn’t want to tell them. Not yet. Not until it was the right time.

  “It’s the truth,” I snapped, already tired of the lies. “That bitch seemed to have fun though with all I supposedly did while she controlled me.” A sour taste filled my mouth after calling Thea a bitch. She was the furthest from being that, but I had to keep up appearances. I grabbed a towel from the nightstand and started wiping the damn green paste from my chest. “Now, if you’re not here to tell me it was all a dream, and Thomas is raiding the kitchen again, then I suggest you leave.”

  The two vampires exchanged a look again. That was seriously annoying me.

  “As you wish, my Prince,” Lewis said, bowing.

  “Call us if you need anything.” Holden dipped his head.

  I watched as the two marched out of my room and closed the doors behind them. I remained still, listening to their retreating footsteps. After a moment, they crossed the front doors to my chambers. They greeted the six guards Alex had stationed outside my door—curiously, none of them were my men—before leaving.