The Witch King
Page 34
“Do you really want to be king?”
“For crying out loud.” He slams the wardrobe shut, reaches up to snatch a hand through his curls. “We can’t do this again. You know I don’t have a choice. I’ve let you go. Why do you insist on torturing me?”
“I’ve hardly begun torturing you,” I answer with a huff. “And anyway, I didn’t ask if you really had to be king. I asked if you really wanted to.”
He grinds his molars together, facing me with a glower. “Someone has to do it.”
“But do they, though?”
He blinks at me, the glare receding slowly, bleeding from the sharp lines of his face. “What—what do you mean?”
There is no eating an apple from a poisoned tree without getting sick.
“You want to reform this place. You want to make it better for everyone. And I know your heart is in the right place. But, Emyr...” I lick my lower lip, pushing myself to my feet to move up to him. “How do you reform something that’s rotten from the foundation up? How do you fix a system using the same broken tools?”
He tilts his head down to watch my face as I creep closer. His golden energy washes out like a wave, licking at my skin. I can’t help but sigh.
“What are you suggesting the alternative is?”
“Revolution, baby.” I press my palm against his chest, leaning my head back to meet his eyes. “Sometimes things have to burn so new things can be built in their place.”
“You and your fire metaphors,” he mumbles.
“To be fair, it’s not a metaphor if I intend to actually torch the place for good next time.” It’s a joke but it isn’t, and neither of us laugh. My fingers make circles in the fabric of his shirt.
His gaze runs the length of my nose, over the new scars on my cheeks and jawline. “What might that look like?”
“Huh. I’m not sure yet. I am just one very small person with very few thoughts in my head. But no one does anything alone. You and me. Jin and the witches. Tessa and Wade. Briar. We can figure something out.” I take a deep breath. “There is a world where you can have everything you want, Emyr. No more being split in half. We just have to fight for it.”
“And we’re fighting together?” I notice the tremble tucked at the back of his throat.
“We’re fighting together. Fighting for a better future for witches, and fae, and humans. Fighting for them, and for us.” I thump my hand against his chest. “Not as contractually bound fiancés. Not as two people backed into corners. But as...something.”
“Something,” Emyr repeats. His heart beats faster under my palm. His throat bobs.
I grin, flashing fangs. “Are you ready for a fight, Your Highness?”
“Please just kiss me.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
His mouth is warm and familiar, sugar and smoke and the quiet threat of fangs, and how did I ever think I could kiss him once and never again?
All around us, threads of black and gold entwine, filling the bedroom with light and darkness in equal measure.
It feels like a resurrection.
“Oh,” I groan, pulling back just a fraction, our lips still dusting together. “One more thing. Briar is part witch, and she opened the door to Faery.”
“WHAT?!”
* * *
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
It would be a lie to begin this by thanking anyone other than M.J. Beasi. M.J. was the first person to love these characters and this story, the first person to demand I not give up on them or myself. Without their unwavering support through every step of this process, their fierce friendship, and their one-person mission to defeat my impostor syndrome in hand-to-hand combat, this book would not exist. I owe them so much more than I can repay.
I am forever grateful to Rena Rossner for reading this story in one of its earlier, messier forms and recognizing the heart of it. I cannot thank Rena enough for finding me a home at Inkyard Press. There, I’ve had the pleasure of working with Natashya Wilson, a dream of an editor. So much of what is right about this book is thanks to Natashya meeting eyes with the very soul of my work and sinking her claws in, dragging out its beating heart, and helping me get blood on the pages. It has been an honor to work with someone who truly understands the story I wanted to tell, sometimes better than I did myself. A huge thank-you to Bess Brasswell and the rest of the Inkyard team for always making me feel taken care of and valued, both as an author and as a human being. And infinite thanks to Ryan Garcia, whose artwork on the cover took this book to another level entirely. (Seriously, are y’all seeing this?)
Even if it looks like a battlefield half the time, I am so thankful for queer writer Twitter and the connections I’ve made there, the constant network of support I’ve found for my stories throughout the years. There are more names than I can list here, but y’all know who you are. And specifically, I want to shout-out Andrew Joseph White and Alice Scott for the LGBTWIP hashtag that brought so many people together. I am extra grateful to A.J. for offering early feedback on this manuscript that was both merciful and discerning.
Big thanks to the baristas both past and present at Starbucks 8804, who kept me in cold brew and listened to me ramble about magic and gay stuff. They were either genuinely interested or too polite to ask me to shut up. Either way, it was appreciated.
For my family, both blood and found, who have never once doubted me half as much as I’ve doubted myself. It is a humbling thing to be as loved as I am.
For Alina, my magic charger, who is always finding me right when I need them most.
For Erin, my safe place to land, who has taken my dreams and worked tirelessly to make them our reality.
For Fin, my heart made human, who inspires me every day to write toward a better tomorrow.
And finally, for every single reader fighting for that tomorrow alongside me. For everyone living in the margins who wants to burn it all down and build something new from the ash. This one’s for us. Let’s get to it.
ISBN-13: 9780369700162
The Witch King
Copyright © 2021 by H.E. Edgmon
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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