Origin: an Adult Paranormal Witch Romance: Othala Witch Collection (Sector 1)

by Rebecca Hamilton

  Without the magic she needed to protect herself.

  Chapter 28

  The guards collected Alec. Marched him out into the dawn. In solemn silence, Regent Dvorak led the way through the woods. The sympathy of Alec’s comrades was palpable in the overcast, dewy morning. This was his funeral. As he walked, he kept his head held high. He would die a disgrace to his sector, but with honor in his heart.

  But with the weight of each step, his stomach tightened and his heart pounded faster. A man never really knew their capacity for fear until faced with death. It took every bit of Alec’s willpower to force himself forward.

  Alec had never faced the ravagers without the enchanted sword. They would devour him. Perhaps it was what he deserved. Perhaps he would finally atone for all the lives that had been ripped apart by the ravagers while he stood idly by. All in the name of a false tradition.

  Even now, he seethed at the thought.

  At least he could die without regret. Die knowing he had done everything to right his wrongs, to save the love of his life. Now the future of the sector would be in Adira’s hands alone, and the hardest part of that realization was admitting that she would do fine without him. He could have left well enough alone. But then, what kind of man would he have been? Alive, but a coward.

  No, in his heart, he had stood by Adira to the end.

  When they reached the outskirts, the procession stopped. Alec’s boots sank against the muddy terrain, and the dank forest atmosphere breathed a chill across his shoulders and back. Beyond the invisible walls of the sector, shadows shifted between the trees. Regent Dvorak’s hand balled into a fist his side.

  Where was his speech? His scathing address?

  Instead, the regent slowly turned to face Alec, his expression forlorn. “I’m sorry it has to be this way,” he said, his voice lacking its intensity that usually accompanied an exile. “You were the son I never had.”

  Some father. Dvorak didn’t know anything about being a father, and probably never would. Alec’s real father came to mind: a hard-working man who did anything for his family. A man who was not above the jobs most men would snub their noses at. That was why Alec needed to keep his head high right now—why he would not plead with Dvorak. His family name would always carry its honor, even if Alec died a traitor.

  He clenched his jaw. “Do what you must.”

  Dvorak nodded, his gaze distant and noncommittal. He swallowed and tilted his chin up. “Alec Kladivo, for the crime of treason, you are sentenced to banishment.”

  The guards pushed him forward, but he shook them off and stepped forward of his own accord. This was it. Everything he had fought for, everything he had sacrificed, and this was how it would end. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to warn Adira. To say goodbye.

  The regent turned to face his audience, and Alec scowled at the back of his head. To think, he’d actually looked up to this man. Admired him. And in the end, Alec had been nothing more to him than a pawn in a sick and dangerous game.

  Normally, the entire city would attend an exile, but instead, only Dvorak’s most trusted guardsmen and Alec’s comrades were present. All except Constantine. Perhaps Dvorak knew he didn’t own every witch hunter in the sector.

  The regent clearly didn’t want his usual spectacle, and that one small choice revealed that somewhere inside Dvorak was a shred of decency. Dvorak did not want this. Not for Alec.

  But in the face of things, that meant too little to change anything.

  Or perhaps Alec was giving the regent too much credit. Perhaps he simply didn’t want the sector to know he’d been wrong—that even his most trusted guard had gone against him.

  Thudding footsteps and the shushing of leaves broke the silence. Heads turned, and Alec’s gaze followed. Adira. She was running right for them, barefoot and in her wedding gown.

  Don’t.

  The word was a scream in his head, but he couldn’t move his lips to speak. Only watch with his gut twisted and prickling dread immobilizing him as she sped toward them.

  When Adira reached them, the guards created a barrier, stopping her from breaking through. She reached between their bodies for Alec, bending over the guards’ arms. “Dvorak! Don’t do this!”

  One of the guards grabbed her by the arm and started to pull her toward the castle, but Dvorak raised his hand. “It’s okay,” he said. “Let her go.”

  The guard’s brow furrowed as he returned the regent’s gaze, but he let her go.

  She ran to Alec, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her teary face to his shoulder. “What happened?” she whispered.

  Her hair smelled like cherries, and he inhaled deeply, committing the scent to memory for what little time on this planet he had left. So badly he wanted to wrap her in his embrace. But that would only make things harder for her.

  This was not how it was supposed to end. They were supposed to overcome the regent. Maybe start their own family.

  His throat tightened. He’d never let his thoughts go there before, and now was not the time to start. “Go back, Adira,” he ordered. “Return to the castle, and don’t look back.”

  “No.” She grasped him tighter. “I’m not letting you go. He’ll have to banish me, too.”

  Alec reached up to her arms and pulled them from his neck to hold her at a short distance. He dipped his forehead down to rest against hers. “You know that won’t fix anything. This is my fate. You need to stay and face yours.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “You can,” Alec said, his throat closing in. “You will. And you’ll face it your way.”

  He hoped she caught his meaning. He couldn’t exactly spell it out for her with their current audience.

  “But you don’t understand,” she started. “Dvorak—”

  “Enough!” the regent cut in. “Say goodbye, Alec.”

  His heart dropped. Please don’t let her go through with marrying him. Please let her find another way. He bit back all the emotions, knowing she wouldn’t live to make those decisions if the regent got angry now.

  When Adira opened her mouth to speak again, Alec lifted his finger to her lips, shaking her head. “Goodbye, Adira. You need to go now.”

  Reluctantly slipping his hands from hers, he turned back to face the Deadlands. She reached for him, but he felt her being ripped away. He didn’t look back.

  “Alec!” she screamed. “Dvorak plans to…mmm…let me…mmm! Mmm!”

  One of the guards was silencing her.

  He swallowed past the ache in his chest. Whatever it was she wanted to say, Dvorak didn’t want Alec to know. And if that was the case, Alec didn’t want to know, either; revealing Dvorak’s plans would only get Adira in more trouble. He needed to end this.

  He stepped out into the Deadlands. A step that felt like any other, except for the icy fear blasting against his skin with the knowledge that, on this side of the boundary, certain death waited.

  The foliage rustled. The wind carried hisses like a whispering siren of the approaching ravagers. Alec stood firm. He would not run, if for no other reason than there was nowhere to run to. Without his sword, he was as good as dead, but he didn’t plan to stop fighting. Not now.

  The first of the ravagers sifted out from between the trees, opening its mouth to reveal razor-sharp teeth as if to taste the air. As if its slithering tongue could make up for the lack of eyes and nose.

  It paused, titling its head, slowing turning its blank gray face toward Alec.

  Alec braced himself. The beast wouldn’t be alone. The outskirts were always teeming with ravagers. They always stayed close by, waiting for the barrier to come down or a life to be cast out into their lands.

  And yet, they could go years without feeding. Even the one encroaching on Alec now was little more than foggy, translucent skin wrapped against its ribs. By the time the first ravager was halfway to Alec, two more had appeared along the tree lines.

  Alec swallowed, squeezing his hands into fists as he res
trained his desire to turn and run.

  Don’t run. Never run. Not from anything.

  That was what his real father had taught him.

  If Alec had any chance at surviving this, it would be to face the ravagers. To prove that he could live among them—could kill them without magic. That banishment would not be a death sentence for him.

  When the first ravager had crept close enough, it pounced, and Alec fought back with swinging fists to the side of its head and strong kicks to its abdomen to send it flying back. All he needed to do was fight off the ones nearby. Kill them first, then find a place to hide. Create his own barrier of protection. Some way to guard himself.

  Until…until when? Until Adira came for him?

  The ravager’s teeth sliced through his arm, and he tensed against the pain. Now was not the time for him to question why he was fighting. He just needed to stay alive long enough to figure something else out.

  Another hard kick sent the beast flying back long enough for Alec to steal a glance over his shoulder.

  The guards, the regent, Adira…all still watched.

  Dvorak planned to make sure the exile did its job, which meant Alec would have to go deeper into the forest. He needed to get out of the regent’s line of sight. Get to where Dvorak could assume him dead.

  And if he really did die in the process, he needed to be where Adira wouldn’t see it happen. She wasn’t holding up well to this display. Her eyes widened with fright and glazed over with tears. One of the guards still restrained her with an arm hooked around her waist and a hand clamped over her mouth. Only her muffled cries could be heard over the sloshing mouths of the ravagers. She kicked the guard and twisted in his grasp, but there was no way she would overpower him without magic.

  Alec tore his gaze from Adira’s tearful face as the previously discarded ravager lunged at him again with a haunting, human-like shriek. Alec gritted his teeth, cursing himself for the distraction, and swung again. But instead of his fist connecting with the ravager’s body, the ravager’s mouth closed over his shoulder, sinking teeth into his flesh, deep into the muscular tissue.

  Sharp pain erupted, but he bit back a scream. He slammed his fist into the side of the creature’s head, but his hit glided off its slimy skin. As the ravager drove Alec to his knees, a second ravager came in and swiped at his left side with a yip.

  Alec’s lips trembled against the pain. He couldn’t break Adira’s gaze, though. Her expression would haunt him, even in death.

  Slipping a hand into his pocket, his fingers grasped at the sundial pendant Adira had given him. If there was any time to see how powerful her charm was, it was now. But Dvorak would never just stand there and let Alec survive. No matter how tormented he was by Alec’s banishment.

  Alec pulled the sundial out as a third ravager closed in on him, blocking Adira from his view. The burning sensation of more teeth in his arm weakened his grasp, and the pendant tumbled from his hands. He lunged forward to grab it, another ravager behind him hovering over his body.

  He could feel the magic radiating from the charm, nearly enveloping him, slowing the ravagers. He needed to take it back, to harness that protection. He kicked off one of the beasts and stretched his arm farther, but it was too far away.

  Alec tried to push his body up to crawl closer, but the ravager’s could only be slowed down so much without the sundial in his direct possession; they swarmed him again, fighting with each other to get to him.

  Adira squeezed her eyes shut and turned her face away, and Alec’s chest tightened. He was as good as dead, and now she knew it as well as he.

  Dvorak slowly turned his back as well, then started off into the woods.

  The guards, Adira in tow, followed. As pain seared Alec’s flesh, his audience blurred in their procession back toward the castle.

  His fingers scraped against the earth in a futile attempt to get closer to the sundial charm, but the horde of ravagers consumed him. Darkness crowded his vision. The love of his life flickered in and out of his sight until his world went black.

  Chapter 29

  Adira sat slumped on the edge of the bed, staring into nothingness Alec could not be dead. This couldn’t be happening. Not after everything they had been through. He wouldn’t just leave her like that. He would have fought back sooner. Would have escaped somehow.

  It’d almost worked. Her sundial—the magical protection she’d given him. It’d slowed the ravager’s down. But to what end? To prolong his suffering? Her gift to him had become nothing more than a curse, the beasts reducing her best magic to torture and pain.

  She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. How had it come to this?

  Nika snapped her fingers in front of Adira’s face. “Come on, now. No good sulking. Your wedding is in a few hours, and now I have to start all over!”

  Adira slanted a glare toward Nika. She couldn’t be serious.

  The woman crossed her arms. “I don’t know why Dvorak even bothers with you. Useless! You don’t care about anyone but yourself. I spent hours getting you ready—now the dress is soiled, your feet are dirty, and your makeup smudged. You know, you aren’t the only person in this castle who needs to prepare.”

  Digging her fingernails into the comforter, Adira ground her teeth together. “Get. Out.”

  Nika waved her off. “No time for that.” She motioned her hands for Adira to stand. “Come on, now. We have to get you out of that dress and into another.”

  Adira got to her feet and advanced on the woman. “Get! Out!”

  Nike took a step back. “Fine,” she said, thrusting the new dress toward Adira. “Then get yourself ready. And if you don’t, don’t come crying to me when Regent Dvorak learns of your disobedience!”

  With that, the woman stormed out of the room, and Adira crumbled back onto the bed, crying into the new dress. At the sound of voices in the hall, she pressed her lips together, trying to quell the tears to hear what was said.

  “…done.”

  “You’re sure?” Regent Dvorak’s voice that time.

  “Yes,” the first voice replied. A man with a gruff tone—probably one of the guards. “Samuel found and identified the body.”

  Adira’s hands clenched into tight fists. Not Alec’s body. Please.

  She burst from the bed and across the room to swing the door open. “Whose body?” she demanded.

  The guard and the regent both widened their eyes. The guard looked to Dvorak as the regent’s expression leveled off. He folded his hands in front of him. “Alec Kladivo.”

  “He’s dead?” she whispered.

  “Don’t be daft,” Dvorak said. “Of course he’s dead. What did you think would happen?”

  Adira’s mouth opened, but instead of words, all that left her was a trembling breath.

  The regent tipped up his chin. “He was a traitor, Adira. I suggest you do better for yourself and your friends.”

  As Dvorak turned to leave, the guard approached the door and guided her back into the room.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said. “Alec had many friends inside these walls. Today, we grieve with you.”

  The guard locked up behind her.

  She swallowed, shaking her head. No. Every fiber in her being resisted the regent’s words. Emptiness replaced her hurt, quickly making room for anger. No. It would not end like this. The regent would not take everything from her.

  Adira threw the clean dress on the bed and strode over to the window, taking in the scenery of the horizon. Somewhere in that distance was Miss Balek’s home, bare of Miss Balek, of Adira, of all her friends. But Adira had brought something with her. Not a physical item, no, but the collective knowledge of all she had learned there.

  She closed her eyes and started from the beginning, replaying everything she had been taught, every spell she had cast, and every page she had read. As she took in a deep breath, she could feel the magic within her. No, she couldn’t cast it outward with the metal cuff on her wrist, but she would take
care of that when the time came. All she needed right now was the magic to be there, inside, guiding her.

  She’d read the book Alec had brought her a hundred times; she could recant every word by memory. But none of them meant anything at the time. Even now, the worlds scrolled by in her memory as she desperately grasped to pluck anything useful from the remembered pages.

  Adira released everything. This was not a job for her mind. She let the magic take over. Confusion swirled through her thoughts as she let her inner energy show her what she needed to do.

  Eventually, the memories blurred—all but one.

  The Origin Spell.

  Adira opened her eyes and gasped. She tried to shake it away. That couldn’t be right. Even attempting the Origin Spell would be a death sentence. But when Adira tried again, she was again pulled to the same spell.

  God, she wished Miss Balek were still here to advise her. Everything she had read on the Origin spell ended in the spell caster’s death. No one had ever survived it, and it was no wonder. Every step of the spell was time sensitive, and it all began with ingesting a poisonous, deadly herb.

  Adira swallowed, curling her hands into fists. The Origin spell might kill her, but it would certainly be a better way to die. And if it might at least save her friends, she had to do it. She’d spent her life trying to save herself, and that had gotten her this far. Gotten her to where she needed to be now.

  But this time, it was time to save the sector.

  Adira soon found herself at the bottom of the dumbwaiter chute, dressed in her normal clothes. This time, however, creeping around the castle would be far more difficult. The kitchen was bustling with people preparing the wedding feast.

  She inched down the dumbwaiter door and peered into the room from the safety of her cramped box. Everyone was absorbed enough in their activities that she might be able to weasel her way out while their backs were turned, but there was no way she could just walk right by them once she had.

  Holding her breath, Adira inched the door down a few more inches. Reaching out and to the side, she quickly snatched a white apron and hat from the hook on the wall beside the dumbwaiter. Once she had covered her clothes with the standard kitchen uniform, she waited until one of the cooks was hurrying back with a pot of boiling water.