Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Zoey

Bri walked out of the bathroom in a towel,  no steam permeated from the room. I sighed it was another habit of hers that irked me, another seemingly insignificant way for her to keep them alive in her heart. I had learned a lot from those books and from Trent's description of the feel of that bond's presence but I couldn’t break it to her. The Ioa held me back it wasn’t just them though I didn’t want to tell her she didn’t have choices anymore.

“Who is on today’s calendar?” She asked before downing a glass of room-temperature water and her morning dose of Advil. She was losing weight again. I shook my head pulling out the tablet before me 

“Priest Osbourne of the west district is on your breakfast agenda,” Brianna rolled her eyes. The idea of pretending to entertain nuptial proposals made her blood boil. She always put them for breakfast and had them turned down by lunch always using the rage she suppressed for the more sinister parts of her job after lunch and before dinner. Just like the day she walked out of the bathroom after the devastation she caused in her room her only words were...

“Help me Zoey, I need to look fit to rule and smite.” The only clothes she had were the dresses my cousin had gifted her in her backpack tucked under the bed. She slipped on the thin teal hemp dress. It was modeled in a greeceian goddess style that had a paneled skirt that made two slits up to the tops of her tan thighs a corded belt at her waist and trailing wisps of fabric hung down her shoulders. 

I’d brushed her hair and she had thrown it in a high ponytail flyaway wisps framing her face, and we dug out some bangles and turquoise beaded earrings that were in the bathroom drawers, her figure impossible to miss she looked like a goddess herself as she walked through another large room in the house, one for “court” head high among witches dressed in designer suits and cocktail dresses. Her eyes met no one as some bowed and some stood slack jaw unable to move she had given a long speech about how she didn’t give a shit about the council’s traditions, nor its protocols she was taking the seat due to her by right of her father’s wishes. She would also claim herself as High Preistes of the council and they could dare to take it up with her because she already had a majority vote and right to it after last night’s display.

She had been magnificent, ethereal, and brutal. The girl that had been hiding for so long was now a woman, a tyrant with good reason when needed, and a beacon of change in a world I hadn’t known existed before. She struck down 3 witches that day all cowards with bad records and something to say about The High Preist needed to teach her a lesson as they stood together against her ready to attack. She had smiled cruelly, the dark creature of her being rising.

“Let him try,” she said in bemusement, she silenced 3 in an instant, letting the 4th go as she sat upon the dias’ seat she leaned casually with her chin in her hand whose elbow rested on the arm. She’d crossed her legs her tan leg and snakeskin boots slipping out through the slit. Her other hand fiddled with the crocodile tooth and a pendant hanging from a leather thong looped around her graceful neck as if she hadn’t just unalived 3 witches. The leather necklace had been gift from her men and she only removed it to shower. She wore it everyday mourning their loss, keeping them with her the only way she knew how. 

She came out of the closet today in a bohemian wine-red Zinnia floral dress the V of the neckline daringly low, the fit loose the long sleeves in a different black and magnolia pattern. It had been one of many dresses my cousin had designed for her and all Bri sought out to wear. Andrew and Trent had even tried gifting her some “more suitable attire,” but she refused to wear anything that conformed to the masses. Secretly I think she was trying to hide the weight loss under the airy dresses but I hadn’t commented yet. I’d be lucky if she took a few bites of toast with her coffee while she entertained the Western Priest. 

Andrew and/or Trent often joined her for breakfast, throwing the day's suitor off realizing other men lived here. I also joined her as her assistant. Keeping her appointments in order and learning everything I could about her world by her side, where I liked to be. She let me wear band tees and jeans and told me we were supposed to be the black sheep. She would give me cliff notes about everyone we’d see while she got ready as she did now. Her notes just proved how unimpressed she was with the Western Priest and that he may not make it past her first cup of coffee. 

Andrew and Trent both joined biting their lips ready for the show to start I rolled my eyes at them the door opened and everyone stood but Bri as a tanned blond-haired man stepped through the doorway followed by his assistant. A pretty buxom redhead whose blouse needed to be buttoned a few more times than it was and her skirt was far too short and tight. Oh, this was going to be splendid.