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I cared little whether the witch lived or died. But despite her insistence that she didn’t know anything, I knew she was hiding something. Something that would explain why her grandmother had the royal amulet of my people.

“She cannot die,” Tavik said suddenly, his voice laced with urgency. “Alaric, do not let her die.”

“What? Why?” I asked hesitantly.

“I—I cannot explain it. Just please do not let her die. Please protect her.”

Not this again… I closed my eyes, biting back a groan of frustration. I wanted to scream at him, to shake some sense into him. But I knew arguing with him would be a waste of effort. He was clearly still entranced by whatever magic Cerise had used on him.

So instead, I said, “I will do what I can.”

Tavik said nothing, for which I was grateful.

With a grunt, I slid the witch off my shoulder and let her fall onto the grass. Her body crumpled into a heap, her head lolling to the side. Dried blood stained her temple where Reid had struck her.

I glanced up at the sun, noting its position for when Reid was expected to arrive. Turning toward the forest behind me, I scanned the trees, ears straining for any sign of my friend—or the fae.

With an exhale of frustration, I nudged the witch with my foot. “Wake up, witchling,” I muttered.

When she didn’t stir, I resorted to pacing the bank of the lake. It was a short distance, and the cramped space only agitated me further.

I hated feeling useless, especially when my friend was out there risking his life. My teeth clenched so hard my head started to throb.

The witch grunted, shifting on the grass. With a groan, she rubbed at the wound on her head, muttering something incoherent.

Her eyes flew open, and a sharp gasp burst from her. She sat up abruptly, then winced and rubbed her head again. “Shit! I—I—” Her eyes bulged as she took in the lake, the forest… and then me.

Her face flushed, her eyes darkening with rage. She staggered to her feet, anger simmering in her expression. “You son of a bitch,” she hissed.

I raised my hands, palms out, to show I meant no harm. But before I could speak, a wave of magic crashed over me, throwing me backward several feet. I toppled to the ground, the breath whooshing from my lungs.

“Where the hell have you taken me?” the witch demanded, drawing closer to me with her hands outstretched. Magic crackled along her fingertips like lightning.

“It’s the Alavern Lake,” I said calmly. “This is the portal to my lands.”

She frowned, glancing at the water. “I don’t see a portal.”

“Gods’ breath, you witches can be so unimaginative,” I muttered.

Another surge of power struck me in the chest like a ball of flame, and I bit back a cry of pain as fire scorched my insides.

“I should melt your bones right now,” the witch growled, her green eyes blazing.

“Then do it,” I challenged, glaring up at her. “But if you do, you’ll never uncover the secrets your grandmother was hiding.”

She faltered, her lower lip quivering slightly. Her nostrils flared, and moisture shone in her eyes.

But no tears fell. I had a sense the time for tears was over.

She was nothing but hard steel now.

“Her secrets died with her,” she said in a hard voice. “Thanks to you.”

Sparks ignited along her fingertips, but I was ready this time. Her hands slashed through the air. I rolled in the grass, flinching as her magic sizzled, heating the air just above my head.

Without giving her a chance to strike again, I lunged for her legs, knocking them out from under her. With a grunt and a cry, she crashed to the ground. I climbed atop her, pinning her wrists above her head with my hands.

“Go ahead,” I hissed, baring my teeth. “Melt my bones.”