A deep rumble reverberated through the halls, an unsettling sound like a slow, deliberate heartbeat mixed with a long exhale, as if the castle itself were alive, breathing, watching. She didn’t move, focusing her senses.
No one was there.
Looking back, there was no one, but a tingling crawled over her skin as she turned back around, and the hall had changed. She hadn’t seen it happen, but she knew it did—there was a dead end that wasn’t there before. The right was blocked by stacked tables and chairs, leaving her only one direction to turn. A shaft of moonlight fell across the door, bathing it in a silvery glow that made the surrounding shadows seem even darker, as though the castle itself wanted her to see it—wanted her to enter. As if it weren’t alarming enough, the door was the only part of this hall that wasn’t dusty.
Sin side-eyed the walls, silently questioning why they were doing this. Perhaps they recognized the magic within her, like its antithesis.
Gently turning the knob, lifting the door slightly to avoid as much noise as possible, she opened it, revealing a vast, ancient library filled with old tomes and flickering candlelight. She could feel the potent magic thrumming through the room, a tingling that started in her fingertips and spread up her arms, as if the air itself pulsed with energy that recognized her, called to her.
As if in a trance, her eyes locked on a book—unremarkable in appearance—but she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Her feet moved of their own accord, not taking her eyes off the tome as she reached for it. The witch’s warning echoed in her mind, but she was unable to resist. As Sin’s fingers touched the book, the atmosphere shifted suddenly, the warmth leeching away untilthe air was so cold her breath misted before her, the sharp chill cutting through her thin clothing, making her shiver.
“I wouldn’t open that if I were you.”
Sin
Sin whirled around, trance completely broken at the sound of Jocelyn’s voice, one of the witches who helped heal her.
As well as sealed her power.
Through no fault of her own, Sin knew it was the king’s decision, but it was hard not to feel resentment. This witch was strong, and Sin knew she could easily release her power.
Jocelyn’s eyes were sharp on her pale face, shadows deeper beneath her cheekbones, her gaze a warning. “You’re too old to be playing with dangerous magic.”
Sin bristled at the comment, struggling to fight the insecurity building at her words. “I am.”
“Then why are you touching deadly tomes? You have no magic to guard yourself. A witchling would know that book could literally consume your soul.”
Sin took a step further away from the shelf, heat rising in her face. “What are you doing here?”
Jocelyn lifted her chin, sizing her up, nodding as if she’d come to a conclusion. “You’d risk everything, but everything is exactly what you’d lose. Whoever led you here isn’t your friend.”
“Oh, and you are?”
Jocelyn approached Sin, making her bristle, but she planted her feet firmly on the floor, refusing to cower. Jocelyn’s eyes locked onto Sin’s, the witch’s gaze unwavering. “You need to practice patience.”
“I’ve been enslaved for a hundred years. How much more time do you expect me to sit around, awaiting death?”
“And also silence. I know I’m not the only one to warn you of the walls listening, because I’m one of the few controlling that spell within the castle. I knew you were coming the moment you left your quarters, and muted the spell for anyone else, such as the other witches or the king himself, to find out.”
Sin’s brows shot up, her lips twisting in disbelief. “And why the hell would you do that?” she demanded, crossing her arms tightly.
Jocelyn sighed in exasperation. “Max is powerful, but his father’s wards are relentless, bound to the castle by ancient magic. They’ve crushed countless hopes before.”
Sin kept her composure, though she felt hope crumbling as she realized the depth of the king’s influence. No matter how much Max defied him, the king would ultimately win that fight. Sin’s shoulders sagged, her jaw clenching as the crushing weight of that realization settled over her.
“I’m telling you this because it is Max you should be going to.”
Sin snorted, muttering under her breath, her eyes narrowing into a glare. “Of course,” she hissed, the resentment simmering beneath her surface. “Max is promised to another.”
“There are things—connections between mates—that no spell can overhear. And though he is promised, I promise you that as a mate, he would do anything to ensure your safety. He’s more like his youngest brother that way.”
Sin didn’t miss the way Jocelyn’s cheeks heated at the mention of the brother. “I can’t see him. I’m not fully in control when I do, and he is every bit of what’s holding me back from my freedom.”
Jocelyn huffed a mocking laugh. “Stars above, where is that fierce witch who stared down a king without blinking? Scared of a bond? The one thing that could save you?”
Sin whirled around, furious at the witch’s audacity to weaken her resolve, her hands curling into fists as her breath hissed through her teeth. She couldn’t depend on a male. They were tools, though often not very good ones unless it was the one between their legs. Not that she had any experience—other than the prince…
Jocelyn called out as Sin reached for the door. “Pursuing forbidden power will draw the king’s attention. Find Max. He will open the gate for you to walk through as you ignite your path.”
