The Powerless Witch by J.S. Hart

Author:J.S. Hart [Hart, J.S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-02-08T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

Malakai

“It’s beautiful.”

I nodded, allowing myself a smile as I watched Celeste stand at the edge of the pond and gawk at the last of the daylight reflecting on its rippling surface. The wind wasn’t strong enough to bring the cold of the human world, but it raised tiny waves over the water, making the leaves and grass sing such a lovely melody that even the birds stopped to listen.

Basking in the golden light, Celeste smiled at the sky, almost like she had forgotten I was there. It was so raw and unguarded, unlike the expression she gave everyone when she tried to appear amiable.

She seemed serene and happy and immensely beautiful. Not a soulless witch, not a powerless one, and definitely not a monster feared by so many. Just a woman who had been through unspeakable challenges and who still managed to keep a small piece of the person she was before darkness filled her days.

Clearing her throat, Celeste turned and crossed her arms. She hadn’t said anything when I collected her from her room; she didn’t even bother asking where we were going. She trusted me—as much as she could trust anyone—and followed without hesitation.

Myra was right. I had failed her even before we started. She had barely been here for a few days, and she had been attacked twice. She was the reason I was alive today, even if being so felt like too much sometimes. Especially when I wasn’t drinking or distracting myself with pleasures that left my mind blissfully empty.

“Well?” she said, raising her eyebrows impatiently. “What are we doing? Or is watching the sunset what I need to do to get my magic back?”

“If only things were that simple,” I chuckled, and I could swear I saw the edge of her mouth rise. “But alas, they are not. Please disrobe and step into the water.”

She blinked in surprise, looking down at the flowing dress she was wearing. The fabric was light and sheer, so it exposed most of her skin, revealing both the ugly past she suffered through and the beauty that hid it from the eye. I had caught myself studying her in the last few days, memorizing the way she moved and the way she reacted. At first, it was because she didn’t seem to say what she really meant, so I had to surmise it from her actions; later, it became a fun game of trying to peek into her head and figure her out. Before long, I was fascinated by every little expression, every carefully chosen word, every sound she made. I went out of my way to make her smile, laugh, even sigh. I even let myself wonder what she would sound like if she moaned or screamed or said my name with longing in her voice.

The moment I sensed my mind drifting in that direction again, I shut out the thought. She was already pushing the garment off her shoulders and letting it pool around her feet. I needed to focus on the real reason I brought her here, not the desires of my body.

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