The Witches' Blade (The Five Crowns of Okrith Book 2) by AK Mulford

Author:AK Mulford [Mulford, AK]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: AK Mulford
Published: 2021-11-01T16:00:00+00:00

Rua stared hatefully up at the swollen blue moon. Fuck the moon and the Mother Goddess who created it.

At least there were no witches to drag her out in the middle of the night to pray to it anymore. She had never kept a totem bag. Why pretend to be like them when they reminded her at every moment that she was not?

She stumbled through the snow, having only enough sense to wrap her fur stole around her shoulders to keep her thin nightdress company. Even with the shadows of the forest, the moon on the snow made it bright enough to see. When she was far enough into the woods, she released a final shuddering breath.

Breathe, breathe. She willed herself.

The echoes of screams and metallic smell of blood finally ebbed from her system as the cool air pulled her back toward the earth. The sound of footsteps trudging through the snow made her spin.

Renwick swayed to a halt when he saw her. “What are you doing here?”

Something sounded odd about his voice. He was probably drunk.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she snapped at him. “What are you doing out here?”

“Nothing,” he said. Gone was his normal rigid posture, his limbs loose as he shifted on his feet.

Rua walked over to him, and he retreated a step. “Very convincing.”

“Go back to your tent, Rua,” he warned as she stepped close enough to get a good look at him in the moonlight.

He did not look like the pristine King she knew. His hair was disheveled, his tunic unbuttoned at the neck. But it was his eyes that made Rua stifle a gasp. His pupils were so dilated only the faintest rim of green hugged the edges. She got a whiff of his scent, not the usual evergreen and cloves. He stunk of hellebore and bloodbane. It was the potent pain elixir she had found hiding behind his books.

“You’re hurt?” Rua murmured, more to herself.

“I am fine.” He retreated another step, as if he stood far enough away she would not be able to smell the poison. “Go back to your tent.”

“You do not give orders to me,” she hissed.

“I am the King of these lands, and you would do well to obey me.” His voice dropped an octave, but his words were hollow.

“I am the only reason you are permitted to be the King of these lands, and you will not forget it.” Rua threw his words back at him.

Renwick took a step closer to her, his black eyes gleaming in the moonlight as he sneered. “Oh yes, I forgot. You are the savior of the North, Mhenissa.”

“Do not condescend to me,” she growled.

“Or what? You will cut me down with your magical sword?” Renwick smirked, his eyes trailing down her body, noting no blade hung there, but his eyes snagged on her bare feet in the snow. “Gods, you are even more reckless than me.”

Another flash of her nightmare bolted through her like lightning. She winced against the memory. Renwick’s brow furrowed.

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