Prologue
The air smells like carnage and blood.
Ever since The Great War began, the world has only known death. Lives lost, the ground is soaked with sorrow as communities grieve for those killed. The war is all consuming and yet—the beings of Neevea, Shifters, Fae, Witches and more, continue to fight for their freedom.
Stomping through the woods, her feet sink into the waterlogged dirt. She inhales, the fresh scent of fallen rain, a welcomed reprieve from Sola. This is only a small gift; one she will take away with a tantrum.
Carefully, she works the cold, black soil, her dark fingers stained. The grass rips under her palms as her nails break. She doesn’t stop though, doesn’t wait to shake her hands out from the chill, just continues to dig.
If she wants this to be successful—if she wants this war to end, if she wants to save everyone, she musthurry. And quickly.
Taking a vial of her people’s water, she holds it against the dimming light. Soon, night will be here and the fractions of magical beings will meet for yet another truce with the Humans. It’shappened before, many times in fact, but no fruition has come to pass from it.
That’s why she must do this. She must end the war on her own.
The water—magical water that only her people can harvest from an underground well—glints and sparkles, like fairy dust within its waves. That’s a childish view—this water is so much more.
She drops the vial into the shallow hole, taking a deep inhale to fortify her resolve. If she does this, it will have lasting consequences. Her people, the Covens, and the other species will feel this spell.
It will alter their minds, their magic, their world. Everything will change.
But that’s the point. She has to do this. For the good of all. Because ofher.
The trees shudder, and the ground shakes as she stumbles, clutching the black bark behind her. A large horse—colored blue like the water that feeds it—enters her vision, the rider jumping with the reins still attached in his hands.
Guardian horses, they are only bred within her Coven for war and only a select few can ride their stubborn backs expertly.
“Neith,” the guard greets, but he’s no simple guard. He’s her Heartbond, and has been for nearly three decades. Her God-chosen mate, he leads the army while she gives the orders.
“Marinus.” She sighs, fear and adrenaline causing her hands to shake. “What is it?”
“They’re calling for the Matriarch.” He gestures to the makeshift camp behind them. Her warriors, her guards, people she cares for are waiting to battle on her behalf. Everyone else is safe behind the invisible barrier that keeps the Blackwoods Coven safe, hidden within the forest.
She exhales, exhaustion evident. It’s time to travel for this farce of a treaty.
This war is the Humans’ fault. They were determined to seize the magic that other species had long mastered. And when they foundthey could not claim the magic that permeates their world, the Humans chose to destroy everyone in vengeance.
Them andher. Underhercommand, they’ve become a plague, feeding off the world’s suffering, wiping villages from their map.
It’s taken decades, so many years of death and bloodshed, just to get to this point. So many lives lost over greed.
That’s why she must enact this spell. Take away magic from these lands, take away the greed and pray it’s enough to survive.
Marinus comes closer, his pale white hair shorn short, reflecting the sun off his vibrant silver eyes. The water changes its people, giving them the mark of the Blackwoods Coven. He gently lifts her hands, tips frozen, and kisses them as if she’ll break.
“Let me heal you, my love. One last time.”
Nodding sadly, she allows his cool touch to surround her hands, the tingle of magic a soft caress of comfort and love. Marinus, like most of the men in their Coven, can heal with their touch. The women tend to be able to infuse the herbs and create powerful potions—for healing, or for warfare. It’s what has kept them alive this long.
Once she enacts this spell, this curse, all the magic will be gone. They don’t know if it’ll change their water, if it ends their livelihood, if the barrier will still hold, but they musttry. In order to save Neevea.
But how will it change him, change their love? Will he still care, be the calm to her storm? Though she must do it, this still terrifies her, no matter how important it might be to the world. Because the unknown, a life without magic that has been their only means of survival, will be gone.
Change is scary. But this is adrenaline-spiking, paralyzing fear that shakes her to the core of her soul. She is changing destiny with this curse.
His magic slips away slowly and she mourns. It’ll be the last time it heals her.
“Are you ready?” he asks, voice deep. His eyes meet her dullgrey ones and one finger trails her chin lovingly. “Are you sure this will work?”
