Alec grimaced. Taking a deep breath, he took a step back and another look around. And what exactly did he plan to do if he was seen anyway? Perhaps walk the rest of the hall to the upstairs great room that overlooked the city. He spent more time there than anywhere else in the castle. No one would think anything of it.
Still alone in the hall, however, that would not be necessary. As he wrapped his hand around the doorknob to the regent’s bedroom, his heart pounded in his chest.
One, two, three, go.
Silently, he swished the door open just enough to fit through and just as quickly eased it closed behind him. He pressed his back against the door, trying to keep his breaths quiet and calm. Panic would not serve him well.
For some reason, this situation struck more fear in him than being sent in the arena to face a ravager. And why was he even doing this? Why didn’t he just knock on the regent’s door and talk to him? After all, the regent had saved his family and had given Alec everything he could ever dream of. He’d taken Alec under his wing and taught him everything he knew.
Somewhere along the way, a seed of distrust in the regent had been planted in Alec’s core. Or perhaps that feeling was Alec’s own guilt. He was the one standing somewhere he shouldn’t be right now. He was the one keeping secrets from the regent.
Well, there was no turning back now. He’d created this mess, and there was only one way to fix it, even if it meant barging further into the flames of the fire he’d set.
Alec surveyed the room, trying to look everywhere but at the large four-poster bed with purple satin sheets that Adira would soon sleep on, at least if the Regent was pleased with her. He wasn’t sure which was worse. Thinking of her sleeping there, or thinking of her being held captive in the mating room. He swallowed, his gaze panning to the nightstand—bare—and then to the dresser. Equally bare.
Alec had never noticed before, but now that he thought about it, the entire castle was much the same way, as if no one lived there.
What did the regent care about, other than this sector? Who was he, as a man? There were no hints to that, not even in the most personal of the regent’s spaces.
With no time to reflect on it, Alec crossed to the only thing of substance in the room. A bookshelf. Surely if there were any spellbooks of substance, they would be here.
Alec read the spines: Steinback, Austen, Lee, Fitzgerald, Eyre, Salinger, Orwell, Alcott… These were all fiction.
Alec deflated, tripping his finger along the edge of the books, hoping to find one that stood out. But soon, he reached the end of the shelf.
When footsteps echoed in the hall, Alec tucked his body against the wall beside the bookshelf and held his breath. The regent? Another guard? The steps continued past, and he exhaled slowly. The wall behind him seemed to sigh with him—a slight give.
Alec spun around. A crack in the wall. The seam ran from ceiling to floor and caved from his weight.
A door.
But judging by the location, it led either into the regent’s study or somewhere behind that. Did he dare chance that it was the former?
More footsteps in the hall. Alec cringed, waiting for them to pass, but this time, they didn’t. They approached. Paused at the door. The knob twisted.
Shit.
Alec didn’t even have time to take a breath. He slithered into the room on the opposite side of the covert door and pushed it shut behind him. It was dark in there. Alec didn’t dare breathe.
Whoever was in the regent’s room—probably the regent himself—shuffled past the floor right beside the hidden room. Stopped. Then crossed back again. Alec waited until the door clicked shut before taking another calming, but useless, breath.
His hand fumbled for a light, but there was none. The only illumination was from the lone window opposite him. The room was long and narrow, more like a wide hallway. The side backing up to the regent’s office was stacked top to bottom with worn, leather-bound books. At the far side opposite where Alec stood, an altar with strange carvings sat flush against a wall under a window, covered with a few candles and dishes.
The room was both frightening and promising. Alec didn’t have much time if he wanted to find answers and get them to Adira before the day was up.
Maybe he could give her one more day?
He shook the thought away. Dvorak was breathing down his neck. If Alec didn’t bring someone in soon, the regent would find someone else. Someone who didn’t have near the chance Adira did at survival. And then, Adira would be still next. It would only delay the inevitable and kill more people along the way. As much as Alec loved Adira, he couldn’t allow that to happen.
He started at the top shelf, at the left-most book, and scanned through for anything that might stand out. A lot of the spines were covered in a dusty film. Some had pages so brittle he thought reading them would cause them to crumble. A few revealed details of history he’d not been aware of, but nothing critical or particularly useful to Adira or her situation.
A lot of the books were handwritten, and Alec paused when one of the pages appeared to be smudged. He squinted, making out grooves and pale lines of markings beneath the words on the page.
Alec carried the book to the altar and stole a glance outside to be sure no one could see him there. Just the river and the trees. Still, he hunched down so even nature could not spy on him, and then opened the book to read it in the low light spilling in through the window.
This was the book detailing the traditions. But as he scrutinized the pages, he realized the words had been changed. If a witch had wanted to change the words, they would have used magic.
Unless…
Unless they couldn’t afford to waste magic on it. Unless they thought no one would ever find out. Or notice. Or dare challenge it.
Unless the person who had changed the accounts was Regent Dvorak.
Swallowing around the pinch in his throat, Alec strained to make out the original words.
Fuck.
As the true traditions revealed themselves to Alec, his gut churned. His fingers curled against the stone tiles beneath him and his chest heaved. He nearly slammed his fist to the floor before his better sense reminded him he was somewhere he shouldn’t be right now. The last thing he needed to do was draw attention to himself, regardless how angry he was.
But this couldn’t be right. The regent couldn’t have been the one to invent the rule of prospective queens fighting ravagers to prove their worthiness. That would just be…murderous.
Everything Alec had ever done in his life had been for the good of the sector. If things were as they seemed now, that meant he’d actually been acting out the whims of one evil, selfish man.
Alec closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose. Right now, this wasn’t important. He couldn’t change the past, and Adira could defeat the ravager. It was her life on the line right now. Her that he needed information to save. And if the demon she had to face were Dvorak herself, she would need something more than a history account to do it.
As he continued to read, trying to push away the other thoughts gnawing in the back of his mind, he only became more appalled at what was becoming increasingly apparent—the regent had access to some of the most powerful ancient spells. Spells that, the books claimed, any witch could use. Not just the regent or the queen. But as far as Alec knew, Dvorak had never shared any of these spells with anyone.
Was he purposefully keeping the magic secret from his wives? Was he waiting until they provided him an heir, or did he intend never to tell them? Was he worried a queen might rise above him…that an heir of his would become irrelevant to an heir of hers?
Alec gently closed the cover on the most powerful of the books he’d read and tucked it under the crook of his arm. He’d been wrong to trust the regent. Wrong in everything he’d ever done to protect the sector.
It was time for things to change. It was time to protect the sector from Regent Dvorak. Starting with Adira.
Chapter 17
This was
it. Adira’s last night before Alec turned her in. She felt…ready. But also a little sad. It’d been years since she’d anything resembling a family, and now that she finally did, she would have to leave it behind.
She coated another dish in suds, rinsed it off, and placed it in the drying rack. Heck, she would even miss this—the quiet, reflective moments she had while doing chores. The only thing that would make it better was a window to see out of. But Miss Balek always said, “If we can see out, they can see in.”
She couldn’t have that—not when she wanted everyone to spell-cast as often and freely as possible…which meant not just in the training room.
She would miss this place and everyone there. The only saving grace was that she would still have Alec. Maybe not the way she had him now, but he would be there. He would support her. Guide her. Maybe even…kiss her when no one was looking?
That was a foolish thought. Alec was clear things would end with them when her thirteen days were up, and however she might feel about that, she admired that he was a man of his word.
Miss Balek sidled up next to Adira. “Daydreaming about Alec?”
Adira’s cheeks warmed at first. Then, remembering Miss Balek wasn’t just guessing and had actually read her mind, her face burned all the way to her ears.
The old woman waved Adira off. “Oh, come now, I was young once, too.”
After setting aside another dish, Adira turned to Miss Balek, drying her hands. “You never told me if you are a witch. You don’t use magic.”
Miss Balek raised her finger. “That’s right. I don’t,” she said. She wagged her finger, grinning, and then walked away.
At dinner, Miss Balek insisted Adira sit at the head of the table. Erik didn’t show. Her heart sank. As uncomfortable as the situation with him was, he was as much a friend to her as anyone there. He’d cheered her on just as much, if not more, than anyone else in the room. But chasing him down to request his presence at dinner would only send mixed signals.
Adira sighed and swept a loose tendril of hair from her eyes as Kveta placed the serving dishes on the table.
Kveta muttered, “Miss Balek actually cooked tonight.”
Pressing her lips together, she peered up at Kveta, the girl who never cared what she fed anyone, and saw a glint in the girl’s eyes. “I’m sure you could have done just as well.”
“Could have,” the girl said with a wink before spinning away and taking her seat toward the other end of the table.
Miss Balek tapped a spoon against her glass. “Tonight is a special night,” she said. “Today, one of my students graduates.”
A wave of murmurs rolled down the line of witches sitting at the table. Adira caught her name among those whispered words more than once.
“Yes, yes,” she said, holding her hands up and motioning for everyone to quiet down. “I’m sure you can all guess who.”
Adira’s cheeks burned at all this fuss over her.
“Adira Chovanek has done great work while she’s been with us, and she will go on to do even greater things when she leaves.”
Anastazie stood so abruptly that the whole row sitting on the same bench shifted in their seats. “She’s leaving?” the girl asked, glaring at Adira. “She can’t leave!”
Miss Balek placed her hand on Anastazie’s forearm and guided her back to sitting. “She must,” said the old woman. “And we should be grateful for all she has done and will do.”
“Thank you,” Anastazie mumbled, cheeks red as she fought back tears.
Miss Balek smiled. “Adira, is there anything you would like to share?”
Adira’s throat constricted, and tears pricked at her eyes. This was it. This was really the end. She might never see these people again. She would certainly never sit with them at this table, break bread with them, mop floors with them…do magic with them.
Was she protecting them, or abandoning them?
Adira swallowed. “I’m very honored to have trained with you all. You’ve each taught me so much, but the most important thing you taught me is that it’s never too late to find a place you belong. You’re my family now.”
She decided to leave off the bit about how she’d learned to stop being afraid of who she was, or how she’d learned that there was good left in this world worth fighting for and that she planned to do just that. Statements such as those would draw the wrong kind attention.
A few of the younger kids walked over to Adira and wrapped her in a big hug, while others smiled at her. Jedrick nodded his approval across the table. Anastazie stayed seated, her arms wrapped around herself and a pout on her face.
She would be the hardest one to leave behind.
Radana clapped her hands together. “Let’s eat!”
And just like that, everything went gloriously back to normal. The kids scampered back to their seats. Everyone heaped food onto their plates. The aromas of spiced sweet potatoes and savory meat cast a warm embrace on the room, and the sound of banter and laughter shrouded Adira in a cloak of comfort.
Miss Balek winked at her, and Adira nodded in return. After finishing a large plate of food and a chalice of wine, she leaned back in her seat and just observed, committing every last moment to memory.
This was what she wanted to remember—not the way they cheered her on or the magic they’d taught her or the sparring they’d done together…but their humanity. The humanity she would be fighting for.
As Adira’s breaths came calm and steady, her hand slid down to rest on her stomach. Please let it be possible for me to get pregnant. It was the one thing no amount of magic or resolve could prepare her for. Either she would get pregnant, or she wouldn’t. And if she didn’t, her ability to kill a ravager would mean nothing.
At the end of the day, there was still a chance Adira would not survive. And yet, she had to try.
Just as Adira was about to excuse herself to go wash up, a loud banging sounded at the door. Miss Balek rose to her feet, wiping her mouth before she headed toward the entrance.
Adira’s heart swelled with giddiness. That would be Alec. He wanted to see her once more before their time together was up. She knew he would come back.
She bounded to her feet and headed down the hall to greet him, but as she neared the foyer, she noticed something was off. Miss Balek’s posture was rigid. She blocked the door. There appeared to be more than one person outside. At least two that she could see, but most likely a third as well being blocked by Miss Balek’s body.
Heart pounding in her chest, Adira rushed the rest of the way to the door, stopping short and gasping when she saw who stood there.
Sandwiched right between two armed guards…was the regent.
Chapter 18
Alec stood by the secret doorway, holding his breath and listening. When he was certain no one was there, he slipped out as quickly as he’d slipped in. But he didn’t get very far.
Alec smashed into a wall he couldn’t see. He reached out his hand, once against being stopped by the invisible force field.
A trap.
His gaze lowered to the ground beneath his feet. Sure enough, the rug normally under the regent’s bed had been curled back to reveal a runestone embedded in the floor, right in the middle of the walking path beneath the hidden library and the main door to the bedroom.
The regent must have known someone was in the room. No, that couldn’t be right. He would have just looked and handled it then. Alec had never been in this room before today. Perhaps this was just something the regent did whenever he was leaving…
…the castle.
Because he certainly didn’t do it every time he left the room. Unless he’d forgotten to the last time and that was why he’d come back in.
Alec forced air through his nose, growling at himself as his hands curled into fists at his side. Did it really matter why the carpet was pulled back, or when or why the regent would do such a thing? Right now, he was trapped inside an invisible cell in the regent’s bedroom. That superseded all curiosit
y.
He needed to think of a way out. As if there was a way for a human to get past the regent’s magic. The only magic Alec had ever had was the witch tester, his sword blessed by Dvorak, and the onetime use of a runic symbol that he’d used to mark Adira and just as soon removed. None of which was in his possession right now. This situation was shit.
Kneeling down, Alec inspected the runestone more closely. If Adira were here, she would know what to do. Or at least what the runestone was. All Alec could tell was that it looked a lot like the ones used to guard the sector.
Alec dug his fingers against the grout and tried to pry out the tile. His fingernails splintered and bled from his effort, but it was no use. As strong as he was, he was not superhuman. He couldn’t compete with concrete.
More out of frustration than any delusional belief it would do him any good, he slammed his fist against the invisible wall and growled. He couldn’t even call for help—not that it would do him much good to be caught in this predicament—as these types of the regent’s cells were soundproof.
Yet, waiting for the regent to find him here wasn’t an option, either. At least not one Alec wanted to consider.
Adjusting his weight, he shifted to remove a small knife from his hip. This might scrape out the grout enough to remove the stone. There was no promise that would do him any good, but he didn’t have any better ideas.
Alec held his knife over the edge of the runestone, but he didn’t move. This could go one of two ways.
He took a deep breath, and, wincing, touched the blade to the concrete.
The knife sparked, and a bolt of electricity shot up his arm, sending him crashing back against the other side of the invisible cell. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed his injured arm with his good hand and cursed under his breath.
That was the worse of the two ways. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, praying for the pain shooting up his to his shoulder to go away.
As he rested there, his mind scrambling to think up an impossible solution, voices from the hall filtered in.
Origin: an Adult Paranormal Witch Romance: Othala Witch Collection (Sector 1) Page 13