They poisoned the wine.
“Let’s get this over with,” Marik mutters.I’m going to speak through you to make the announcement,his voice says in my mind.
Since when do you give me a warning?I shoot back, but it’s only met with silence.
My legs betray me, forcing me to rise, and my lips curl upward into a mockery of a smile. The crowd hushes as Marik and I stand in tandem. All eyes turn to us.
“People of the Woodland Kingdom, thank you for gathering here today,” Mae’s voice bellows from my mouth. “It is an honor to host the woodland hybrids, the humans, and the witches.” The words taste like rot. “It is also my honor to present my aunt, Willa Ryley, the lost High Fae Princess of the fallen Fae Kingdom.” My hand gestures to Cora as she approaches and joins me.
Her black aura is gone, eyes now back to the crystal blue of Mae’s aunt. She smiles at me dotingly. I don’t have to control my snarl; Marik does it for me.
“Thank you, Mae.” Cora’s voice is warm. “Many years ago, the Fae Kingdom fell at the hands of the witches. However,” she says, grin spreading, “over the last year, I have had the opportunity to extend the olive branch. There have been many discussions of wrongdoings and reparations. With Mae’s help, we have entered into an agreement with the witches, allowing them to assimilate into our kingdom, into our home. In a formal act of forgiveness, Mae and I are pleased to announce the joining of the witches as an official High House and to recognize them as citizens of the Woodland Kingdom.”
Murmurs ripple through the crowd, hybrids shooting uneasy glances toward the witches. Hesitant smiles and half-ass applause are scattered throughout.
Cora’s smile doesn’t falter. “I understand this may come as a shock to many. The witches have been a painful subject for this kingdom for many years. It is my sincerest hope and belief that the citizens of Woodland can rise above the challenging history and begin to forgive the wrongdoings of the past.”
Despite the snort I can feel forming, my mouth spreads into a grin instead, then says, “A blood oath will be completed with the delegate for the witches to make the joining official.”
A witch delegate. Because Cora and Willa can’t be in the same room together.
A stunning raven-haired witch walks to the stage, her golden eyes alight, her blood-red gown floating on a subtle wind behind her. She forms a shallow curtsy. I want to shove her.
“Your Majesty.” Her voice is dripping in seduction, luring me in like a siren.
“Levana,” I say warmly. She smiles, but her eyes are cold. Dead. “You have been given the responsibility and the honor to speak on behalf of the witches.”
She holds one arm out and presses a razor-sharp nail to alabaster skin, inky blood sprouting from the wound.
“Repeat after me,” Mae’s voice says as Marik speaks through me. “With this oath, I swear on the blood of my people that we will uphold the rules and values of the Woodland Kingdom, that we will do no harm to its citizens. I swear that we will collectively work together withthe Woodland folk to create a better kingdom, one in which we all thrive.”
Her blood evaporates in the air as she repeats the words, and the magic takes hold.
“Should this oath be broken by a witch, they will be prosecuted by the High Crown, just as any of the Woodland citizens would be,” my voice says.
I want to chew them and spit them at Marik.
Cora comes from behind me and offers a hug to Levana, who wraps her arms stiffly around her in response. She pulls away and turns to the crowd. “Your newest High House!” she beams. “Please, enjoy the rest of the ball. Eat, drink, and be merry. This is the beginning of a new era!”
The words clang through me. Cora laid her trap, and we all fell into it. She disappears into the crowd, and I feel like I can relax as Marik’s control slips. He watches me, a sad smile on his face. I lower myself back into the High Throne and motion for a glass of champagne. He doesn’t stop me.
The members of the newly appointed House of Witches begin dancing and calling for more wine, their shrill cackles ringing through the grand room.
Levana approaches the throne. Her mouth opens, but Marik stands and offers me a hand. “Darling, a word, please?” His control is nonexistent right now, so I could tell him to kindly fuck off, but I don’t. It’s easier not to. “Excuse us,” he says kindly to Levana, but she glares at him.
Interesting.
Marik leads me from the throne, one hand on the small of my back as we descend the stairs and step onto the dance floor. Groups part to allow us to walk through. I make eye contact with two separate waitstaff, peeks of gold flashing underneath their white-collared shirts.
Marik comes to a stop in the back, right beside the band, who’s currently strumming a celebratory melody. He wraps an arm around me and pulls me to him.
“Why?” I whisper.
“Is the question…Why are we dancing? Or why do I think you’d want to dance with me?” he asks, bending his head to mine.
I look away. I don’t answer, just let him lead me in a dance that I don’t care for in a room that I’ve grown to hate.
I need you to listen to me and I need you to trust me, his voice whispers into my mind.
