Flame of the Blood: A League of Blood Novel by Queenie A. Marie

Author:Queenie A. Marie [Marie, Queenie A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-08-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Four

The night before she was to be married, Wren sat at her vanity with arms crossed over her chest, fuming. Dahlia had insisted on properly preparing Wren for bed, which consisted of bathing, dressing appropriately, and then finally brushing and arranging her hair in painstaking perfection.

Dahlia touched her shoulder gingerly. “All done, milady.”

“Thank you,” Wren gritted out sweetly. She rose from the chair and swept towards the bed, flopping onto it rather gracelessly as she buried herself under the covers and awaited sleep anxiously. She heard Dahlia shuffle over to the balcony to shut the glass doors and draw the curtains, and then she disappeared from the room, leaving Wren in peace.

But she was feeling far from peaceful tonight as she stared up at the ceiling. Tomorrow, her future would be set in stone. She would wed a prince and be enslaved by the king for the rest of her life. Wren Farley would cease to exist, and only Kerensa Na’labesc would remain. The King of Lithera was already exploiting the gold blood that coursed through Wren’s veins—she’d healed four more people in the past weeks to save a family and a village who would have killed her without a second thought. And each time, she had woken up in this very bed with no recollection of what had come after her blood had touched the lips of the plague’s victim.

She rubbed at her face with her hands, trying to scrub away her conscious mind. Tossing the blankets off her body, her bare feet lowered to the chilly floor. Wren turned in the direction of the balcony, stilling at the sight of the tall silhouette standing between the now open doors.

“I figured you wouldn’t scream,” the shadow said in a distinctly female voice, dripping with condescension. “I must thank you for that.”

Wren froze in place, petrified by her racing heart and screaming instincts as the female silhouette stepped forward into a beam of moonlight.

Her hair shone the colour of blood, bold and dark. The woman’s eyes gleamed silver, and her nose curved upwards slightly. She was incredibly tall and strangely beautiful in a harsh way.

Wren had never seen her before in her life. “Who are you?” she demanded, lifting her chin in what she hoped came across as intimidating.

The woman laughed, straight teeth flashing. “All that matters is that I know who you are and that you have something my sisters and I would like back.” Her silver eyes narrowed in on Wren’s neck.

One of Wren’s hands floated to the chain at her throat of its own accord. “You’re a witch then,” she stated.

“I hear you’ve done your research,” the witch purred, “and it’s paid off so far. But tell me, darling, how do you kill a Ravyn witch?”

Her voice trembled as she breathed the answer. “With fire.”

“A pity, then, that you lack…control over your peculiar magic.” The Ravyn smirked, taunting.

Wren gritted her teeth and clenched her fists. She wanted nothing more than to prove her wrong, but that would mean… No.

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