And it all felt like a dying man taking poison to heal himself.
SEVRAYA'S POV
Darkness. Calming… but why is it so noisy, with that stinging feeling, like eyes are watching? Where is the softness and crickety sound of my bed? Where are the smells of potion and the voice of Orias? They couldn't be heard.
I shifted a little, and the sound of metal echoed. I tried pulling my hand, but it felt so stiff. A groan escaped me, my eyes aching to open to a blurry sight before me.
"A dark witch…"
"You can see that with your eyes… for heaven's sake. And rumor has it she's the King's mate. But we'll take it as his curse talking out for him. This is forbidden!!"
As soon as my vision cleared, I realized I was in a cage. A human cage—the kind they kept their slaves in. I had been chained to the iron bars.
Slowly, I raised my head.
"Oh, she is awake. The witch is awake."
Murmurs rose, and I looked up into the judging eyes of two human males. Disgust. Fear. That was the only look they could create… but I loved the fear most of all. A human who dies out of fear makes the best potion.
I pulled at the chains, though I knew I was drained. I opened my mouth to speak threats, but it felt like a cage that hadn't been opened for ages—rusty, dry, weakened. I couldn't chant any helping spell in this state. I knew that.
"We should report to the King!!"
I sucked in dry air, my lungs aching painfully. Again, everything began to dim around me, and I was embraced once more by what I breathe—darkness.
---
And when I opened my eyes again, I was no longer behind those rusty bars, the chains earlier where now gone. The stench of wealth was thick, a golden, clean, expensive floor contrasting with my dirty, torn clothes smeared with mud beneath me.
"Step back." My bones cracked as I straightened, taking in the crowds gathered in the room. White bloody witches stood among them—the only ones I could recognize, with their white hair.
"Where is Orias?" My throat felt sullenly dry as I turned my head sideways, scanning the crowds. "Where is Orias?" Louder this time. I bet they could hear, but the silence was deafening… like someone was controlling the room. I knew they had a lot to say—the humans, the witches, and whatever other creatures held power here.
My claws dug into my palm with anger and distaste, wondering if they had done to him what they had done to my clan. My voice pierced the ceiling. "WHERE IS ORIAS!!" My body glowed with golden light, the ground beneath me cracking, my hand—patched black—blazing with smoke. I noticed none of it.
"Your maj…" A man tried to step forward, but stopped mid-sentence and mid-step.
I opened myself to the environment, sensing the energy behind me—dark, stinking of curses. Turning where I crouched, I came face-to-face with the man from last night, his head hovering just before mine.
The air darkened around us, a blazing gaze meeting one fiercer still. "What a foul smell you have around you." I spat in his face, earning a wild gasp from the crowd.
"Doesn't seem as rotten as yours, Blight… the curse I want to uproot so badly, but can't." His masked hand caught my jaw harshly, holding me so I couldn't move. A smirk, then a smile tugged at his lips, like he was trying to convince himself of something as he stared into my eyes. "Should we give it a little try again?" He straightened slightly, but his eyes never left me. I showed nothing on my face but hatred.
He pulled the glove from his hand, moved closer, crouching again. His fingers gripped my chin, then slid to my neck. "You've been close to dark witches to think you can use me as your experiment… End this!" He gave no reply, continuing his examination.
"Your Majesty… maybe the curse is lifted." A shaky voice from behind made him withdraw his hand from my neck. He turned to the speaker, his hand pushing through his raven black hair with silver streaks. In the blink of an eye, the King vanished in a cloud of black smoke—reappearing instantly before the trembling man who had spoken. "My… my… lor…"
"Let's try it then," the Alpha King said, watching as the man cowered, the stench of urine thick in the air. "I… mea…" The man never finished his sentence before the King seized his wrist. In an instant, the man's body—beginning at his legs—creeping to stone, solidifying into a bowed statue.
I watched keenly, clarity dawning in my mind. Questions surged in me. Why hadn't his power affected me? But my thoughts were broken when the room shook with metallic, throaty laughter.
After his mocking laughter had died I spoke "Carrion King..." I paused, hoping that title hits in the worst way "Why does your darkness cower before mine, when it devours everything else?" He was backing me.
You won't speak to the King in such a manner… Guards!"
Swords pointed towards me, but my gaze stayed fixed on their King's back.
"Turning your own men to stone, the people you swore to protect—how different are we, Carrion King?
Lifting my head towards the white witches, "Sisters, aren't you supposed to fight darkness? Why kneeling to it?"
A deliberate, serpentine smile spread across my lips when I got no response.
"We all breathe evil. Unlike you, sisters, I do not wrap it in a robe and call it purity. You support evil in a crown—what makes you different?"
For that moment, I owned the room, even knowing how much they wanted to pass a knife through my heart.
"And you, Carrion King…" My voice dropped to almost a whisper, thick with spite. "Evil is evil, but I do not hide mine behind a mask or throne."
I could see the vein on his neck tense.
"My darkness is pure…"
Like I know his next move, he had materialized to where I was but I was quicker, my hand stopping his from going to my neck and he had chuckled darkly, dangerous, intimate "Blight..."
I leaned closer, taunting and sharp "Carrion King..."
"You'll break." He promised and I know he meant every ounce of those words. His almond shape silver eyes trailing down my neck as I muttered my promise too "As long as I breath you'll bleed."