SEVRAYA'S POV
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First, it felt like a tale… tales trapped in books—horrific, tragic ones—but not enough to crack a heart that breath darkness. Until he came… he dared… he conquered, and he made me watch.
I watched him gouge Mother's eyes out from where I had hidden. Mother didn't fret, nor did she cry to be released from the torture. Instead, her face split into a smile almost reaching her ears, her dark nails weakening on the monster's feet… blood spilling from her eye sockets as words I still have not come to understand left her lips.
But I was taught not to cry. I was taught not to feel pain. Instead, I was taught to bring that to others, and I smiled back from where I had hidden, with every bone in my body making me believe she saw me.
With the last roar of the sky, he buried those brutal claws in her heart, just like the tales had said he had done to his mate. I watched my mother go limp with a smile at it feet.
A Cursed Beast.
A Dark Witch.
*. *. *
"For the love of the grave!" I kicked into the woods I had made around the already wobbly bed where the mating ritual would be performed. I had gone through the book of spells for the hundredth time just to get this right. I had read through the tongue-twisting spells, patted the bed with the blood of a rabbit boiled with the nails of a deceased human, but nothing was happening.
It wasn't meant to be. We weren't mates. We were just trying to force it. We were the two left of our clan… They… He killed them all.
I wished to find him. I wished to find all of them who had caused this to us. The Lycans, Werewolves, Faes, and our sisters, the White Witches. I would smile watching them burn once I tapped into the dark magic fully… but before that, I needed more evil to fill my vial—a hatchling so the Dark Witches' clan wouldn't die with me and Orias when we died. A mate who would match my darkness when it finally bloomed.
And this is how it was meant to start—on this bed… while I awaited Orias to get back from his hunt so we could begin the mating ritual. But these cursed woods wouldn't light up.
I began chanting again, my hand coated with a deeper shade of red as I walked around the bed. Focus. That spark… that dark energy—I could feel it even with my eyes closed.
> "Envelope me…
By the hand of the Pale King, hear thy chants.
Make thy woods burn with fire from hell.
Bless this mating with curses.
Let thy vengeance stink like hell…"
Then I heard a creak, a spark, heat enveloping me, my chest burning like I had spoken to it instead of the woods, but I didn't stop, still walking around the bed.
Strange wind slapped my hair across my face even though I was underground, in a closed enclosure where no other creatures could find us. My chest burned more, the blood on my hand growing hot as my breath came faster. Not wanting to let the pain distract me, I continued, chanting faster until I tasted metal on my tongue, a thick liquid sliding down the corner of my lips.
Finally, when I couldn't take it anymore, my eyes snapped open, my chest constricting sharply. My lips curled in a downward smile as I watched the fire from hell burning on the woods.
My gaze went to the old rusty wall clock Orias had brought with him from a haunt, checking the time just to see it was only seconds to the Black Hour already. He had never been this late. He promised to be back quickly so we could start the ritual together, but he hadn't returned even till the end.
And we must take our mating vow and do the deeds before the light of the woods goes out. I couldn't tap into more dark magic today to check where he was, or I'd be laying down in my own skeleton, so I took the other option.
I grabbed my black shaggy cloak, a knife strapped to my thigh, and a bow with arrows coated in poison that could kill any being, hanging on my shoulder.
I shouldn't be out in the woods without Orias with me, but I feared he might be in danger. I couldn't shake that biting feeling off me as I climbed out of the hole into the thickness of the forest, the harsh wind pulling at me with its claws and the birds judging me for being what I was.
The more I walked, the more the darkness screamed at me to go back to where I had come from… but I knew not to get caught. I suddenly stopped in my tracks when I heard familiar footsteps.
"Orias? Is that you?"
I could feel him, but what I sensed was gore. "Sevraya." My name came out in a forced breath from the shadow feet away from me.
"Orias," I called out in almost a whisper as I ran to him, only to have him fall into my arms…the strong scent of blood heating my nostrils. My hand caught the arrows stuck in his back and a gasp left my lips.
"Yo… you shou…l av…here… they found me…" Dark witches shouldn't fret, but it was back again, that one beat of the heart from a dark witch who hasn't grown to her potential that takes a huge portion of dark magic from her vial.
"I won't let anything happen to us," I said between gritted teeth even though his weight was almost crushing compared to mine. "I will get us out of here and we will perform the mating. We shall make more dark witches together and we will get our revenge as we age in darkness."
I could feel his body weakening against mine, the cloth around my belly getting soaked, and I knew he hadn't just been shot with arrows—he had been stabbed too, and they were coated with Ashthorn. I swear to make them pay before I take my last breath.
"You have to leave, Sevraya, before they get to us. I ca—"
"Shut up… we will!" I began pulling him with me because I had no teleportation spells with me—all I brought were protection spells. "Leave!"
"It's a shame if I leave without you…" I pulled us through the mud, not caring about the thorns that grazed my skin. And now it began seeping through when I had dodged the first razor at my head, my skin tingling to the feel of my sisters' presence, sharp as salt—and the game had just begun.
"Surrender now, you spawns of rot!"
"In your dreams, whore of the lights!!" In the next minute I was dodging more blades as Orias fell from me to the floor.
"Lay flat!" I warned as I grabbed my bow and arrow, shooting at the first bitch in a white robe, stopping her from whatever chant she was ready to make on me. My dark heart churned with victory as I watched her burst into black powder.
One down. I held my arrow aimed at the ones surrounding me. I knew I was outnumbered, but I wouldn't die without a fight—because my mother hadn't died without one.
"Does a dark witch have to be the one showing you the way to heaven, sisters? Wouldn't a natural death be more suiting? I am giving you a chance to leave now before I change my mind." I hiked my skirt up, revealing the potion strapped to my thigh.
"You are not leaving these woods alive on our watch…" one of them spat, her hand outstretched toward me. "We will end you, just like every one of your kind."
A laughter, long and loud, burst out of my lips. "Darkness doesn't die."
They all came at once, and the first blade coated with Ashthorn hit me on my shoulder, having me spit out blood. I knew I was weakened—not just from this, but from the ritual earlier, and this would cause even more harm if I got struck again.
I fired more arrows, chanting as the white witches made their own, releasing an irritating burst of white light that made me burn from the inside, more blood pouring from my lips as my knees began weakening.
"By the Pale King's hand…" I summoned, a little burst of dark cloud forming around me. "Wi—"
Before I could complete my sentence, I was slammed roughly into a tree, a cry of pain tearing from my lips. I felt my body being raised again from where I had crouched, my back pressed into something rough and hard.
"Alpha…" I could feel the world dimming around me as I tried to force my eyes open. You can't die now! You can't end the clan! Shame!
I couldn't even breathe properly, as if there was something stuck in my lungs as I floated in the air… until I forced my eyes open and was greeted by a veiny arm locked around my neck, pinning me against the tree. And then… a face. A face familiar. A face that had etched itself into my head.
The protagonist of the tragic tale in the children's books, the one who had brought ruin to my clan, was standing right in front of me—the Cursed Lycan King...the power driven monster in gloves.
His face was devoid of any emotion, not the hate I had seen when he buried his claws in Mother's chest when I was younger. But just when I thought my fate would be the same as hers, my lips began curling into a smile.
"Rip it o—" My words were cut off in my throat when he brought his nose to the corner of my neck and sniffed me, his hold loosening around my neck as his breath teased the hair on my skin.
"Mine."
Everything inside me went wrong.
"Mate…"