ARAHDrusden turned to her and asked, “What did he say?”She frowned. “You didn’t hear it?”“He only communicates through the mind of whoever he chooses to speak to,” he said, his tone demanding. “So, what did he say?”Arah glanced back at the man in the dark coat and hat. “Just that he wants me,” she replied softly, finding herself drawn to his blood-red eyes. His voice echoed inside her head, repeating the words, ‘I shall have you,’ over and over until her feet began to move.If Lokius hadn’t shaken her shoulder, she might not have snapped out of it. “Don’t stare too long, darling,” he warned, brushing the back of his fingers against her cheek. “Elder vampires are notorious for enthralling people—human or not, I guess.”She quickly averted her gaze, wondering how a higher mortal like her could be affected so easily.“Hand over the sylph, and I shall consider sparing all your lives,” the elder vampire declared. She suddenly realized he hadn’t opened his mouth when he spoke. This time
GILDEONHe’d been awake since the dark chains had suddenly unlatched from his wrists and ankles. They had disappeared into thin air without a trace of magic left behind. He had a good idea of what had gone down, but right now, all that mattered was the relief of those damned shackles being gone.Looking back, he doubted he’d gotten even a minute of sleep all night. Thoughts of Arah had pounded through his head, filling every corner of his mind. Was she safe?Drusden wouldn’t let anything happen to her—knowing full well Gildeon’s wrath would be waiting if he did. Still, his mind remained restless. The inaction burned him up inside. Not having control, not knowing every detail of the situation outside the station—it kept him on the fucking edge.Ghulik hadn’t returned yet, which meant he was still out there, trying to dig up intel on that long-haired witch.The door creaked, but he didn&rsquo
GILDEONInstinct told him to shift his hand back to normal, but when Arah’s eyes flicked to it without a hint of reaction, he knew it didn’t matter. Everything was out in the open now. There was no point in trying to hide it anymore.He couldn’t tear his gaze away as she approached. She met his bewildered stare without blinking—no fear, no revulsion.She was calm. Too calm, and it bothered the fuck out of him.Her hand stroked the amulet, and he wondered if that kept her steady. Either that, or she was gauging if he was a threat. The thought that she might think he’d harm her ripped at him.“Let him go,” she said, softer this time, though her voice still had a guarded edge.Gildeon loosened his grip, claws retracting slowly from the Headwitch’s neck, the blood vanishing into the tips.As he let go, Drusden slumped forward, choking and gasping, his body folding at the waist.“Damn it, Mr. Ayadi,” Drusden rasped, followed by a broken chuckle. He staggered, clutching his bleeding neck, e
ARAHShe stirred, her body feeling as if a boulder were pressing down on her. Her mind was hazy, her muscles sore, and her joints cracked with even the slightest movement. How long had she been asleep? Her mouth felt like sandpaper, and the bright light stung her eyes, tears pooling in the corners.A broken moan escaped her. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a wisp of smoke. It smelled like burnt herbs—just like the ones from Alaunus’s infirmary.Was that where she was now?Turning her head slowly, she glimpsed two white pillows piled beside hers. Her hand brushed the soft bedding, and she breathed in a familiar scent that filled her senses in the sweetest way possible.Gildeon.When she finally regained control of her body, she pushed herself up slowly. Another moan escaped her as her stomach twisted painfully—a hollow ache from days without food—yet she wasn’t hungry. She felt clean from head to toe, dressed in fres
ARAHHer face felt numb under the weight of their attention. She hadn’t meant to make a scene, but the argument was about her, so it just made sense to get involved.“Sleeping Beauty finally speaks,” Zylas snarked, breaking the awkward silence.“How long have you been up, Arah darling?” Lokius asked, standing beside Vienna, one hand on his hip.“A little while.”“You alright?” Gildeon said, his tone more intimate, as if they were the only two people in the room. Tension knotted in her stomach as their gazes connected, reminding her that they still hadn’t gotten closure from their last conversation. She had likely blacked out halfway through Gildeon explaining how Roselia had helped them adjust to the human tongue. There were still questions and unspoken feelings between them, though it didn’t feel like this was the right time to address them.“I’m fine,” she replied, rubbing the side of her neck. “Just a little sore—” She frowned. “How long was I asleep?”“Two days, Lady Arah,” Vienna
GILDEONIf it were up to him, he wouldn’t bring her at all. It’d be hard to focus on the battle if he had to constantly look over his shoulder, making sure she was safe. But on the other hand, he’d rather keep her in sight. Drusden’s coven was strong, but Gildeon trusted no one more than himself to protect Arah.“Let’s head back,” she said. “The others are waiting.”He grabbed her arm before she could reach the door. “They can wait.”Arah stared at him with wide eyes, waiting for what he was about to say.“Why aren’t you mad?”Her lips parted for a second. “I was mad, Gildeon.”“No. Not about you staying here.” He pulled her close, his hand firm on her face. “What we talked about at the station.”She tilted her head slightly. “You mean the part where you kidnapped me, pretended to be my husband, and dragged me to Earthland without my consent?” Her words were sharp, but there was no trace of outright anger.Gildeon narrowed his eyes, studying her face. No resentment. No sign of pain fr
GILDEONBack downstairs, he stood by the wall, arms folded, listening as Drusden revised the battle plan now that Arah was joining them at the public funeral.“I want guards for my friends too,” Arah said, leaning forward in her seat.“Sure, Mrs. Ayadi. I’m sure Stringmaster can arrange that.”“Why would I need to protect random humans?” Stringmaster protested through their mouthpiece guard. “They are irrelevant. I would be wasting valuable combatants.”“Hey, don’t call them irrelevant!” Arah slammed a hand on the table. “They’re people, you heartless witch.”If Arah wanted, Gildeon would give her the chance to kill this cloaked witch herself.“I’m sure Stringmaster didn’t mean that, Arah darling,” the shapeshifter witch chimed in with a chuckle. “Right, Stringmaster?”The cloaked witch didn’t respond.“Back to the plan,” Drusden said, drawing everyone’s attention again as he circled a spot on the plaza
GILDEONThey found another abandoned block, perfect for a battlefield. Alaunus set up a grid to prevent any destruction if things got out of hand. Arah watched from the railing upstairs, standing between Vienna and Drusden, who was smoking what had to be his tenth cigarette of the day.Zylas had been asleep just minutes ago, but he’d managed to get up—probably smelling the fight about to happen. That worked for Gildeon. He wanted to see how these witches would react if he challenged their precious coven member to fight him.Ghulik had been circling and sniffing Zylas—trying to figure out how that man existed, especially on Earthland.“Who do you fancy fighting first?” Alaunus asked with a false air of friendliness, standing against the wall and massaging his hand.“Why, you joining in? Thought you were just a healer,” Gildeon said dryly. “Shouldn’t you be off burning herbs or polishing crystals?”Zylas howled with laughter by the stairs, a fresh beer in hand. “That was a solid burn, m
ARAHFear coiled around her ribs like a vice.“I-it’s me,” she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath.Gildeon didn’t flinch. His lips remained curled back, exposing sharp teeth. His expression was predatory, enraged. In his eyes, she was someone else—an enemy.What had Drusden done to him?She tried to choke out his name again, but her throat tightened, the pressure crushing her windpipe. Her pulse pounded—a frantic drumbeat against his grip. The steam curling from his scaled body rolled over her in suffocating, blistering waves.How the hell was she supposed to stop this?Through tear-blurred eyes, Arah caught a flicker of movement—an outline shifting, pulsing like a mirage behind Gildeon. Her eyes widened as she remembered her creature-helper.Gildeon hissed, his body tensing as his free hand shot back, claws poised to seize whatever had latched onto him. The creature clung to his neck, jaws clenched, its form flickering in and out of focus.The grip around Arah’s throat sl
ARAHDays passed. Drusden had recovered, but he remained at Roselia’s farmhouse.Roselia taught him about the old world and the ways of hedge witches. Drusden then hunted the dark witch responsible for the devastation—and eventually killed him.Together, they worked to cleanse the village of its plague and heal the people.Arah witnessed something shift between Roselia and Drusden. It was likely during this time that they began developing feelings for each other.Drusden also bonded with young Alaunus, though their connection was anything but paternal. He spoke to Alaunus about mankind’s corruption and the rewards of embracing a higher power as a witch.Roselia noticed it too, and Arah was sure it bothered her.Then came the day Drusden told Roselia everything—about Zephyr, about the vision of an army—an elite force of witches transformed into higher mortals meant to help Zephyr rule over Earthland.Arah wouldn’t have been surprised if Roselia had kept this knowledge even from Gildeon
ARAHTo say this was a massive shock would be an understatement. The idea of a lower mortal becoming a higher mortal was probably the last thing she had ever expected to hear.How could that even be possible? Flying to Shamibar in Zylas’s dragon form was already mind-blowing. But the idea of altering the very nature of a mortal by merely passing through the Mad End’s Wall? That was a whole different realm of insanity.No matter how she tried to make sense of it, the logic eluded her. Unless Zephyr was lying to Drusden. Maybe the sylph simply said whatever he needed to get what he wanted.“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” she whispered.In the next memory, Zephyr was gone. Arah barely had time to take in her surroundings before Drusden crumpled to the ground. Blood seeped from his ear as he fought to stay conscious.The stench hit her—a suffocating, sickly blend of rotting meat, unwashed bodies, and the sharp tang of smoke. She swallowed hard against the bile rising in her throat
ARAHThe next memory swept her onto the battlements, where she had a clear view of the invasion unfolding below. This was a different place, a different time. A different nation. The people spoke in foreign tongues.Men in ragged clothing, their faces twisted with barbaric fury, slaughtered civilians with swords and axes. Limbs were severed, bodies crumpled in pools of blood. Women screamed as they were dragged away—some ruthlessly stripped of their clothes, preyed upon by these animals. Children’s throats were slit without hesitation.Arah grimaced in horror at every atrocity, her stomach churning. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to forget—to block out the carnage. But every anguished scream, every whispered prayer of the helpless, cut through her like a blade, carving into her heart and twisting her gut.Zephyr’s voice interrupted her thoughts.“Look at them,” he said to Drusden as he stood on the parapet ledge, gazing down at the massacre below. “Look at how your kind d
ARAHZephyr brought Drusden to Yonah’s temple. And as she had with Marianne, Arah watched Drusden enter the Dark Plane with Zephyr’s help. It took longer this time, and at one point, she thought Drusden would die right there on his knees.When Drusden snapped back to consciousness, his palms slapped against the stone floor. His breath came in ragged gasps, sweat beading on his forehead. His skin was ghostly pale, his wide eyes unfocused—like a man who had stared into the abyss and seen something stare back.“What have you sacrificed, human?” Zephyr asked, crouching before him.Drusden slowly lifted his head, fat tears streaming down his cheeks. “My spirit will live on even after death,” he said softly. “I will never be able to reunite with my family.”Arah couldn’t begin to imagine the misery Drusden would endure for the price he paid.A small smile appeared on Zephyr’s lips. “For that sacrifice, the power you obtained must be great. Show me.”Without a word, Drusden exhaled, and a bi
ARAHAnother death was reported—a woman who sold milk and eggs, saving every coin to buy medicine for her bedridden father.Arah watched as Drusden slammed his fists onto the desk, sending a quill and inkpot rattling, scrolls tumbling to the floor. His jaw tightened, nostrils flaring as he ducked his head, a muscle ticking in his temple. Even his men, though silent, shared his frustration.She still didn’t know how the deaths were connected to the ministers, but she believed in Drusden’s suspicions. This whole thing reeked of injustice. And more than anything, she wanted to see what he would do about it.The next day, Drusden and his men arrived at one of the ministers’ workshops. The place reeked of ink and damp parchment—likely the very goods being produced here.“Y-you shouldn’t be here, Inspector,” one of the workshop guards stammered, his face pale. “The ministers won’t take kindly to this.”Drusden barely spared him a glance. “I’m not here for their kindness, boy,” he said sharp
ARAHDrusden looked almost the same as he did in the present—just younger. His brown hair was longer, and his face was more open, easier to read. There was no trace of his usual smugness. Instead, he was serious. Dutiful. His tone lacked the usual edge of playfulness she had grown so used to.How could he be the same Drusden, yet different at the same time? Maybe witch power really could change people after all.She followed Drusden through the streets until he stopped in front of a small house. Sympathy softened his features as he spoke to the victim’s wife. Inside, four children sat around a table—faces thin, clothes worn—with nothing but bowls of plain porridge in front of them.Arah felt a tug in her chest. It was obvious they weren’t eating enough. And now, with their provider gone, how would they survive?“I am deeply sorry,” Drusden said.The woman broke down, shoulders trembling as she wept.Drusden’s gaze flickered to the children, their wide eyes full of questions they were
ARAHIt was up to her to pull him out of it.The weight of that realization pressed down on Arah like a boulder. She was determined—of course, she was—but how was she supposed to do it? The thought of failing, of not being enough to help Gildeon, curled around her ribs like a vice.She shook her head, shoving the doubt aside. This wasn’t the time for uncertainty. Gildeon needed her, and that was all that mattered.She sprinted down the prison hallway, dodging jagged chunks of fallen stone and splintered beams. Behind her, the sounds of battle raged—Roselia and Lokius locked in a deadly clash.Then, a sharp cry of pain.Roselia.Arah faltered, her body twisting instinctively toward the sound. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to turn back, to help. But she knew Roselia wouldn’t want that. She wouldn’t forgive Arah for wasting time—not when Gildeon’s life hung in the balance.Gritting her teeth, Arah forced her feet forward.Outside, the fog wall loomed before her—a towering, imp
GILDEONIn a blink, he was back in Drusden’s throne room. He dropped to his knees, palms flat on the cold floor, breath ragged. He hadn’t even realized he’d shifted back to his mortal form. His chest tightened, a storm of emotions threatening to tear free.His mysterious birth mother. His father’s death…He slammed his palms against the floor, frustration boiling over. Haemos and Kohina knew who he really was. Why the fuck had they kept it from him?Footsteps. Brown boots halted in front of him—Drusden’s. The Headwitch crouched, head tilted.“If you need a shoulder to cry on, mine’s available, salamander,” Drusden mocked.Gildeon’s glare burned as he met the bastard’s smug face.“Not gonna lie. Your father’s memory might be my favorite one I’ve delved into.” Drusden paced, dragging from his cigarette. “Learned a lot about your kind. Shame we never got the real answer about your mother.”He stopped, gaze lifting to Dragon Zylas as he exhaled a slow stream of smoke. “I really thought I’