Chapter eighteen

"How's that glass house, Priestess?" I seethe, leaning against the castle's outer wall next to the crumbling hole leading into the throne room. When Frank mentioned the witches being here, I hadn't realized he meant the two high priestesses along with the whole gods damn coven. Instead of checking on the two injured witches inside, the two high priestesses immediately placed blame on me. Rich coming from them—the two responsible for allowing Monique to treat Adara like garbage and go on a rampage.

The ice priestess—her crystal blue eyes cold and piercing—stares at me with her mouth set in a firm line. "I'm not sure what you mean, wolf. From the looks of things, witches were taken and harmed after being found on your property."

I chuckle under my breath, spreading my arms wide. "And where were you when they were taken? When a witch within your coven went rogue?" I shove off the wall, using my wolf's speed to cross the space between us until I'm standing nose to nose with her, my breath fanning the dark crimson hair lying against her cheeks. "Where were you when my mate needed your help to get away from that rotten bitch?"

She holds eye contact as the other priestess responds—this one with golden caramel hair down to her waist and green eyes so light they're almost yellow. "You have no business asking these questions. The coven is fully capable of handling our own witches."

A bark of laughter escapes me. "Fully capable? Have you sent a single witch to check on your injured inside? The two children who are students at your academy?" I point at the gaping hole, knowing Darrold is in there with Jaz, Juliana, and Wren—both witches unable to walk on their own with the injuries they've sustained. "Are you going to place blame on us for that delay as well, Your fucking Highness?" I scan the gathered crowd, the other hunters behind me with Frank and Mila as Chloe works on healing Mila's wounds—the only thing about Chloe showing up that I'm thankful for.

"Well, it is your wolves guarding the entrance," the ice priestess says, quirking one brow.

I make a show of glancing at the hole, then the wolves gathered around Mila and Chloe before looking back at the high priestesses. "Heavily guarded, you're right. How could you ever get past them?" Sarcasm drips from every word as I glare at them. "Don't worry, the wolf inside is tending to your injured and will be sure to gather Chloe's attention for further healing. With that, the only thing I care about right now is Adara. Who can tell me where she is?" I scan the rest of the coven gathered before me, hundred of witches standing over the grass and within the forest of trees surrounding the black obsidian castle.

Witches glare at me from every direction, contempt pouring from the gathered crowd. The two high priestesses stand stiffly before me. With each passing second, my frustration rises.

"TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!" I roar, letting my claws tear forward, fur rippling over my forearms. Pain streaks through my chest, the mate bond trembling, and I groan, panic surging through me as I fall to my knees. "No," I whisper, clutching at my chest. "NO!"

"What is it now, wolf?" the golden-haired priestess asks, her bored tone angering me further.

"She's hurt," I growl, raising my head to glare between the two high priestesses, "and you have done NOTHING! If she dies…" I force myself to stand, swaying slightly as my head swims. "If she dies because of your neglect, you all will pay."

"Gideon!" Ruya calls.

My head snaps to the edge of the forest where more witches stand amongst the trees. Narrowing my gaze, I find the red-haired oracle from the academy, shoving people out of her way as she rushes toward me.

The blonde priestess steps forward, reaching to put a hand on the oracle's arm. "Ruya, now is not the time—"

"No!" she shrieks, shoving the high priestess away, earning gasps among the gathered crowd. She staggers forward, and I grip her upper arms to steady her, her muscles trembling beneath my touch. "Addy—she—I don't know—you have to come with me! Right now. S-she needs us, and I-I don't know what to do—"

"Where is she?" I say, trying to control the edge in my voice to not incite further panic within the girl.

"The… the bar," she whispers, tears forming in her eyes. "She's… It's on fire."

Lead drops heavy in my gut, and I cut a glance over my shoulder at my wolves—all of the ones outside having heard her words as they stare at us.

"She's battling Monique by herself," Ruya says, voice cracking. "I-I should've stayed to help, but I… I couldn't. I thought maybe you—"

"Can you take me there?" I ask, hope daring to spark when she nods.

"But I can only teleport one of you."

"One is all I need," I say.

The world around me spins, and vomit threatens at my lips. My grip on Ruya's arms tightens, and in the next instant, our feet touch the ground again. I drop to my knees, breathing deeply through my nose to attempt to tame the nausea bubbling inside me, but smoke chokes me as I inhale.

Raising my head, I look at where we are. The bar sits yards away, flames licking at its walls, orange light dancing against the darkening sky above, dark smoke billowing in a cloud above us. "No," I whisper, scrambling forward. I bolt around the edge of the building, dirt flying up around me, clouding in the air and mixing with the smoke.

Adara has never used so much magic. She's never lost complete control of her flames like this. Whatever is happening—between the mate bond's strained sensation in my chest and the amount of fire consuming the world around us—isn't because of my witch. It can't be.

Adara stands across from me, fire licking up her arms. Her hair is fanned out around her head, as if she were in a pool of water, the tips a flickering orange like the embers of a fire.

"You don't deserve him!" Monique yells, clumps of mud clinging to her hair, some parts scorched, and ash smeared over one cheek. She thrusts a limp Kaylus up over her head, blood shimmering on his shiny black feathers and dripping from his beak. "If I can't have a familiar, you never should have gotten one!"

A hoarse cry rips from Adara's mouth as she raises her flame-laced palms at Monique, two balls of fire tearing toward the blonde witch. Monique screams as they connect with her skin, melting her sleeves to her arms as she raises them to protect her face, Kaylus's body dropping to the ground.

Monique drops to her knees, panting, sweat peppered across her forehead. "I should've killed you when you were a child." Her hands shake as she tries to brush hair from her face, her hand falling back to the ground when her other arm is unable to support her weight. "After Batya's prophecy, I knew you would betray me."

"I didn't betray you, Mother," Adara spits, taking a step toward Monique, who scrambles back.

Goosebumps scatter over my flesh at the sound of her voice—crackling, demonic… haunting. It's everything from the nightmare I'd had not long ago, only instead of Adara killing Rathmann for hurting Kaylus—it's Monique terrified and wounded on the ground before her.

"I didn't betray you," Adara hisses, "when it was your own fears clouding your judgment!" Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath, and the air around her shimmers with the increasing heat, rippling out toward me. The flames consuming the bar snap, reaching higher and higher into the sky. "I've broken the cycle with my unpredicted pairing—"

Monique's eyes go wide, a gasp escaping her. "But how—Batya's prophecy, how—"

"—and catastrophe is looming on the horizon—for you have no place in the new world." She raises her palms toward Monique, who screams and rushes back on her hands and knees until she's backed against a tree.

She can't be the one to kill her,my wolf says, trying to push me forward.

I hesitate—isn't this exactly what Adara deserves? To have vengeance and learn what that feels like at her own hands?

She'll crumble under the guilt, you fool. You know her!

Shaking my head, I rush forward. He's right. She'd never recover after taking the life of her own mother—no matter how horrible she's been. "Adara, wait!"

Her head snaps to me, palms cracking with fire, and my heart stops as I stumble, tripping and falling to my knees. Her eyes—usually violet like a deep twilight sky or silver like the stars above—are swallowed up in black pits, flames licking at their edges and giving them an eerie glow.

A burning house flashes before me. Burned, tied up bodies found within the carnage. A woman and a child. Grace and Ella.

Blinking the memory away, I refocus on the woman before me. My mate, who would never harm a soul if she wasn't pushed to such extremes.

"A-Adara…" I force air into my lungs, my feet finding purchase as I move forward with one hand outstretched toward her. "Please, don't do this. You're not a killer, mia fiamma."

Her brows cinch, the first emotion she's shown outside of anger since I've seen her. "She deserves to die."

My heart aches at the desperation in her voice—as if killing Monique is something she has to do, as if she doesn't feel like she has a choice. "I know she does," I say, inching forward with each step, "but you don't deserve to carry the weight of being the one that takes her life." Another step. "You are the light within my darkness, little witch. A beacon that guides me home to your pure heart when the world becomes too dark. When I become too dark." Another step, and I stand an arm's reach away from her, wanting to reach out yet fearing the flames still covering her body. "I know you," I whisper, a lump forming in my throat and choking my voice. "I love you. Come back to me."