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“Yes, she is your Queen, but what am I?”
Sorin froze, and when his eyes fixed upon her this time, they were flames. He stalked back to her and a trail of fire was left in his wake. As he reached her, a column of flames erupted around them, and Scarlett forced herself to quiet the surprised cry that rose up inside of her. She had known he was powerful. She had known he was the Prince of Fire for months now, but he had never displayed it at this level, not even in the face of Talwyn. Flames of red and gold and wildfire blue snaked through his hair and rose from his fingertips. He seemed to almost be floating on flames.
His voice was lethal, the ire as sharp as the blade at his side, as he said, “That is an excellent question. You tell me, Scarlett. What are you?” Scarlett didn’t know what to say, and when she didn’t speak, he continued. “You told me, over and over again, you do not want this. You do not want your bloodline to dictate your path. You do not want the Fates to decide your future. You do not want to rule. You do not want to be chained to a throne. You do not want to be my Queen. You do not know how you feel about Callan. You have said you do not belong here. You do not feel like you belong there. You wanted the choices. You wanted to decide. So I have left those decisions up to you. So tell me, Princess, what are you? What are you to the Courts? To the world? What are you to me?”
Scarlett felt like he had punched her in her gut. She would rather he had actually punched her. Her shadow flames blocking the door guttered into nothing, and Sorin’s own power dampened. There was a light knocking on the door before it opened. Cyrus stood there, clearing his throat awkwardly, obviously having heard their fight.
“Sorin, we must go. Briar just sent a warning.”
The Prince before her merely nodded at Cyrus, then turned back to Scarlett. She couldn’t even look him in the face. He gripped her chin roughly, forcing her eyes up. When she finally met his gaze, he spoke again. His voice was just as lethal, but the edge had softened a touch. “You are mine, and I am yours, but what are you to me? What am I to you?”
“I don’t know,” she snapped. “We must suddenly define something so undefinable?”
“When you decide what you are, I will accept your choices. But until then, when my Queen summons me, I must go. I do not have a choice.”
“Then go,” she spat. “I do not care.”
He dropped her chin, his mouth forming a thin line, and strode to Cyrus. The doorway before them transformed into a portal of fire, the crown of flames above his head glowing brighter than it had before.
“He doesn’t have a choice, Scarlett. Not until—” Cyrus began softly, but Sorin threw him a look that clearly told him to keep his mouth shut.
“I. Do. Not. Care,” she repeated, enunciating each word. “You all can go to hell.”
She saw Sorin’s back stiffen, and he stepped through the portal without a glance back to her, Cyrus a step behind.
The portal snapped shut, and Scarlett screamed in frustration. Flames appeared in her palms, and she hurled them into the fireplace. She found herself wishing she could talk to Cassius, and she cursed aloud for not knowing how to control her Traveling yet.
She had information that could help them. Each week, after her dinners with Callan, Finn, and Sloan, she snuck down to that passageway. At the base of the stairs was a huge cavern with books in that strange language. She had found two other books down there in the Old Language. Translations. They were translations of the other language, and she had indeed been teaching herself how to read it, and along the way she had found information about the Avonleyans and their continent. She wanted to go down there now but couldn’t risk being seen going there during the day.
As she turned to throw more flames, not caring if she burned his entire fucking palace to the ground, she froze in place at the panther that sat across the room from her. Its eyes were glowing as it watched her, its tail switching back and forth across the floor.
“Shirina?” she whispered cautiously.
The panther didn’t move as she inched closer. When she was a foot away, Shirina stood. Scarlett reached out her hand, and the instant her hand touched the animal’s soft fur, she felt the pull at hernavel. As if in slow motion, she watched the bedroom disappear, and she found herself standing in the middle of a grove of trees. The trees were in full bloom with flowers of purple and turquoise and rose gold despite the frost and snow on the ground around them. She turned to find a large castle looming behind her. The sky was cloudy and gray, the wind chilly. She stood barefoot in the snow. Shirina stood at her side and nuzzled her hand.
“Where did you take me?” Scarlett asked her quietly, scratching behind her ears.
“Where indeed?” came a voice from behind her. It was icy, cold, and cruel.
Scarlett turned slowly to face the female it came from. She was tall and young. She looked like a mortal in her early twenties. Her features were sharp and angular. She had long brown hair that was braided down her back, and she wore a black suit of some sort with leathers over the top. Scarlett could see the sword strapped to her back, peeking over the woman’s shoulder underneath the cloak she wore. Her skin was golden brown, but her eyes were a deep shade of violet as she pierced Scarlett with her stare.
“It has been an age since a Spirit Animal has visited our realm,” said the woman. Shirina elicited a low snarl beside Scarlett, and the woman tilted her head to the side, as if contemplating something. She looked back at Scarlett. “The panther brought you here? You did not come on your own?”
Scarlett didn’t know if she should answer. She didn’t know if she should do anything.
Shirina decided for her with a nod of her head.
“I see,” the woman answered. Looking Scarlett up and down, she added, “You best come change, your Majesty. You cannot see the Oracle looking like that, even if you are a Queen.”
Scarlett looked down to find she was still wearing her nightgown. Her eyes darted to Shirina, who nudged her forward with her nose. She started to follow the woman, Shirina in step beside her. “I’m sorry, butwheream I?”
The woman looked over her shoulder, a wicked smirk lining her lips. “You are in the Witch Kingdoms.”
Scarlett felt the blood drain from her face. Sorin had told her some about the Witch lands. They were a realm of cruelty and bloodshed. The Witches themselves were harsh and brutal, showing no mercy. She didn’t let the terror color her tone. She dug deep, pulling up every shred of arrogance and swagger she could. After all, as Death’s Maiden was she not just as cruel and brutal? “And you are?”
Those violet eyes glared back at her, just as wicked as this whole damn realm felt. “I am Hazel Hecate, the High Witch.”
Chapter 37
