Chapter 26

TWENTY-SIX

Arlys

"There!" Tara yells, pointing up ahead.

My heart beats faster. Did she do it? Did she really find what's causing the Illness?

She runs with determination toward the rushing waterfall, her dark hair whipping behind her as she moves. My gaze moves to where she pointed. To the rushing river. The water cascades down the mountain, creating a dazzling spray. Drops of water bounce off rocks and plants around the waterfall making the whole area misty. It's beautiful. A surprise. But not what she's pointing at.

I rush after her, sensing the others just behind me, until I see it. And the second it comes into view, I know exactly what it is. There's a tangled web of metal and crystals taking up the space where the water comes out, creating a chaotic and unnatural appearance. The tangle is grotesque, a jumble of sharp edges and shimmering reflections. The crystals vary in color, but none of them are pretty. They're all dark and ominous-looking, and they seem to twist and writhe in the water's flow.

It's an ugly mass, and I imagine that I can feel the negative energy coming from it. It's dark and twisted, and I know in my gut that it's doing terrible things to the water. How did the witches get here to put this up? When? And why? Why make the deal if they were just going to poison us to death?

"This is it," Tara says, edging closer to inspect the web. " This is the source of the Illness. If I can get rid of it, your people will stop getting sick."

"What the fuck?" Drogo growls.

"It's not a pretty thing, is it?" Garrick asks, and his voice is guarded.

We're all on edge. Because of the thing . The thing the witches created to make us all sick.

Tara moves closer to the web, focused solely on it, taking in all of the intricacies. We watch her, giving her space to do whatever she needs to do, even though every instinct inside of me says to pull her back. To keep her far away from the thing.

When Tara reaches the water's edge, I suddenly sense movement in the woods. My muscles tighten, my heart races, but I don't have time to warn the others before a horde of witches emerges from behind the trees.

Tara's mother is suddenly beside her, her hand biting into Tara's flesh, obviously having used magic that I couldn't follow. Her eyes are filled with rage. "Congratulations on almost fucking up my whole plan," her mother sneers. She's wearing the leather of a warrior, with a chain around her neck and a blood red stone dangling from it.

My blood boils at the way she's looking at and talking to Tara. This is the woman who hurt our mate. Who made her believe she was worthless. Who broke her down day after day until she came to us, a broken, smiling thing, not understanding that she deserved better than how we were treating her.

I want to rip out her throat.

Tara starts to tremble. Her expression is frightened.

"Get away from her!" I shout angrily.

"Unless you want to die," Garrick says, stepping to my side.

Rinan and Drogo are there in an instant. All of us are ready and willing to die to protect our mate. But even though we might have a chance at taking down this woman, the other six witches that surround us complicate things. If they know Battle Magic, and they probably do, we'll be dead in seconds.

But I'll die proudly, if it's to protect my mate. I take a step forward, and Tara meets my gaze, shaking her head. There's something in her eyes that makes me hesitate. I trust her, and she doesn't want us attacking. Not yet.

Tara stares at her mother, her voice pleading. "You need to stop this. There's no honor in poisoning them until they're too weak to fight. This isn't our way, and you know it."

Her mother huffs, and there's no kindness in her face. No love. There's nothing but anger and hatred that burns so brightly inside her that there's nothing else.

We were right about her.

She shifts, and Tara winces, probably because the bitch has tightened her hold on our wife. "There's no honor in battle. There's no honor in our people laying dead on the battlefield at their hands. You would know that if you'd spent a second in battle. You pathetic piece of shit," her mother snarls at her.

"Mother–"

"I literally found the one thing you're capable of… spreading your legs for the shifters."

If I was close enough, I'd punch this woman.

"Please, mother," she begs. "Let me end this. There's peace between our people. You don't need to kill them any longer. Not in battle, and not like this."

Her mother laughs, and the sound is as cold as ice. "We haven't won as long as the shifters live and breathe. Don't you understand? The ground is soaked with the blood of your people. A hundred years and more has been spent with our people dying to these beasts. I finally found a way to end this. To end them. And yet, my stupid, useless daughter doesn't see it." She shoves her back. "The good thing is that I don't need you to see it. I don't need you for anything. Quite literally, you've made no difference in the story of our people. No difference at all."

"But the peace agreement–"

"I've already wiped my ass with your precious peace agreement! Now, sit down and shut up while mother does what you were too weak and too simple to do."

"No, I won't let you!" Tara says, drawing her shoulders up taller, even though there's fear in her eyes.

"Kill the shifters!" her mother yells at the other witches. "I'll handle my daughter ." She tries to get another hand on Tara, but Tara gets out of mother's grip and shifts to stand in front of us.

"You'll have to kill me if you want to kill my men!" she says, her dark gaze moving over the leather-clad women.

None of them reacts. They don't so much as blink. Like warriors carved from stone, they seem to wait for their queen's orders. Orders that I know I'm not going to like, even before the bitch opens her mouth.

"Very well," her mother says, breaking into a terrible smile. "I guess we kill my daughter then too."