by Amelia Oz
"Pretender," someone hissed. I glanced furtively towards the voice and saw a short, fat man with cold eyes. The man next to him stepped on his foot and I was glad not everyone seemed out to humiliate me. When I reached Murad, he held out his arm and I accepted it gratefully, hoping he might keep my upright if I passed out or fell down.
"You're doing fine," he whispered in my ear. I nodded, tucking and then untucking hair behind my ear. Murad kept a reasonable pace as we walked towards the dais. It was clear people here were fascinated with Murad. Lots of smiles and borderline hysteria when he chanced to return a smile or respond to a blessing. I received obvious stares, but when Murad was distracted elsewhere, I noted contempt on quite a few faces.
As we neared the witch nobility, I saw Tess and Clara frown. Tess caught my eye, and smoothed her features into a placid smile. I was disappointing them for sure. When we reached the platform, Murad turned back to the gathering. A bell clanged and the doors reopened. The crier announced a new arrival.
"Prince Abbas, Noble Enforcer and The Great Lion," the man bellowed.
The Enforcer strode into the room. Men and women alike gasped aloud at the sight of him. He was enormous, easily over eight-feet tall. His skin was darker, his face frightening with its sharp planes and black eyes. His hair was deepest sable and almost touched his shoulders. Horns curled upward from the top of his head. Most remarkable were the black wings that framed his striding figure. They were shaped like a bat's wings with claws that contracted as they stretched. Instead of the thin membrane of a bat's wings, his were covered in fine black down that shivered with the air as he walked. The wings were closed, yet when he passed the archway, he snapped them outward, revealing a huge wingspan. Gasps rang from around the room. Daria purred at my side, and I looked over to see her lick her lips. Ick.
Regarding the crowd, I saw her response wasn't singular, although most people just appeared frightened to death. Whereas Murad seemed loved, the Enforcer was obviously feared. The silent room seemed to breath with relief when he took a place at the foot of the dais to my right. Jing San and six others followed him. Funny I hadn’t noticed them before but they formed a line to his right. Murad patted my hand. Could he hear my racing heart? I'd tried to imagine what The Lion might appear like, but had not even been close.
Clara, Tess, and Daria took turns welcoming the attendees and yammered on about this year's group of novices, activities for the year, the status of Wiccan protests in Australia and so forth. When Clara finally wound down and turned to Murad, he took my hand in his. He squeezed gently, no doubt feeling the clamminess of my palm.
"Distinguished coven, I greet you and recognize the importance of your numbers in holding peace within the Primati community. As I announced previously, I have decided to take a wife. Allow me to formally introduce you to Mademoiselle Stella Avery, your future Noble Queen." He paused to a scattering of applause. I wanted to die. Perhaps it was my imagination, but the silence felt oppressive and pointed.
Murad released me. Faces blanched and I peeked up at him. His eyes had turned deepest red. He bared his teeth and razor-sharp incisors slid into place. Was this part of the program? I mentally kicked myself for not paying closer attention. The hiss of Jing San's samurai blade being slowly drawn from its metal sheath was like hearing Death whisper.
The Lion shifted the barest inch, and the entire room of occupants froze in place. He whispered something and every witch in the room dropped to their knees, heads bowed. I heard the witch nobility gasp behind me. A sword of blue fire appeared in the Enforcer's hand. Even Murad flinched at the sight of it.
"No—please," Clara whispered in a tight voice. As the Enforcer stalked slowly to the center of the aisle, he passed close by where I stood. I did the only sensible thing I could think of. I screamed. As the winged beast turned towards me, I stumbled and fainted dramatically—falling off the dais.
He caught me, the sword disappearing to wherever it had come from. I was dead weight and felt him swing me higher into his arms.
"Air. I need air," I cried in a panicked voice, my eyelids shut in distress. I felt the Lion swing in Murad's direction and then my fiancé's response.
"Take her, brother. I need to have words with the witches."
Chapter 30
Judgment
Stella
ne moment we were in the Hall, the next we were outside in the night air. I opened my eyes and shivered to see the dark outline of the Enforcer staring down at me. The harvest moon hung above, concealing his face. His black wings unfolded slowly, rising high above his shoulders to surround us. I shuddered.
"Don't be afraid," he said, his voice guttural. He lowered me gently to the ground. I scanned our surroundings and noted the hedge labyrinth to our right. I began to shake and backed away from him. "Don't run." He raised a claw tipped hand and dropped it. I turned and ran into the labyrinth.
"Stella," I heard him rasp. I'd never been good at outrunning people. As soon as I knew someone was in pursuit, my instincts were to drop low and begin swinging my fists. This time I made sure to run as fast as I could. Small torches illuminated turns within the labyrinth, the sweet scent of grass and honeysuckle rich in the air. I tried to make only right turns and avoid backtracking, but that strategy failed a few times, leaving me scrambling to find a new path. I could hear and sense him close, yet he did not overtake me. Not yet.
When I reached a small clearing, I stopped. There were a few sapling trees and a circular stone mosaic lay in the ground. A round stone ball lay at the mosaic's center and it gave off a pearly glow. Magical torches lit the area and a sturdy bench made of alder wood sat nearby.
I rested on the bench, trying to catch my breath. It didn't take long for my pursuer to step into the clearing. His black eyes were guarded as he remained some distance away. He wore all black, an angel of death in moonlight.
I stepped up onto the bench and beckoned him to come nearer. His expression grew wary. I motioned again for him to come closer and tried not to get distracted by how fearsome he looked. By his obsidian eyes and strangely beautiful face.
He did not do things by halves. One moment he was twelve feet away and the next he was directly in front of me. I did not hesitate, knowing I may not get another chance.
I slapped him as hard as I could. Except my hand never made contact. He held my wrist inches from his darkening expression. I gulped to see his huge hand enclosing mine. That didn't stop me from pulling from his grasp and trying again. Once more, he captured my wrist and hand.
"Why are you attempting to strike me?" he asked with a dangerous glint in his eyes.
"You're such an ass! Do you really believe I am so stupid, Alaric?" I shouted.
His eyes threaded with red fire as he took a step back.
"How did you know?" he grated.
"Know what? That you have more aliases than a superspy? That you are Abbas the Lion, ergo the Great Enforcer, otherwise known as Alaric? Let me list the ways for you. How about the way you toss people around? How about the scars on your palms from Michael's sword? Or the fact that your elevator doors are etched with gold lions...it's a long list. I've suspected who you are since the night Silvan was killed. Seeing you break people in half kind of made everything click into place."
He continued to stare, dumbfounded. High five, sister. For once I was the one with the surprises.
"But you allowed me to take you away that night," he ground out.
"That's right. Because I felt safe with you."
"You came to see me about protecting you from the Lion—you were afraid of him—me—kidnapping you," he said, his gaze heated as it raked my face, looking no doubt for signs of madness.
"That was before I realized you were the Lion." Why was he struggling with this?
"Why did you slap me?" he asked darkly.
I crossed my arms and leaned towards him.
"I tried to slap you for not telling me you were engaged to Daria Demir! How da
re you kiss me when you knew the entire time you already had a fiancé? You lied to me. And how could you turn your back on me after I spilled out my heart to you that day in your office?"
He gaped at me for several seconds before his eyes glittered with something unpleasant. He stepped closer, his face inches from my own. I made sure to breathe as I held my ground. It was hard. Very, very hard. If I didn’t know Alaric was in there, I would be terrified.
"Never try to strike me again. Never try to run from me again. Not when I am in this form. I may not be able to control myself with strong emotions or challenges—and I don't want to hurt you."
"Is that what you tell your fiancé?" I sneered.
"Damn it, woman!" He snarled. "I am not engaged. I told you there was no one else."
"Then why did she tell me you were?" I argued.
"Because she's a psycho bitch who wants it to be true," he roared in his new voice. "Our fathers talked of a marriage and drew up a contract, yet it was never formally announced. She's been stalking me for centuries." His passionate response drew me up short. Having met her, this had the ring of truth to it.
"You mean—you aren't even dating?" I asked, my tone a trifle less accusatory.
He gnashed his teeth, revealing even larger incisors than Murad displayed earlier. I gulped. The air trembled around us as he obviously struggled with his temper. An electric current hummed, raising the hair on my nape and arms. He took a step back. No. That was not happening. I leapt forward, throwing my arms around his neck. His wings flared but I clasped my elbows, determined not to let go.
His hands rose to span my entire waist, holding my weight. His flesh was much warmer in this form; my body burned where it touched him.
"Stella! Have you no sense? Are you not afraid of me?" he grated, his lips hovering before mine.
"I'm only afraid of your stupidity, Alaric." I inhaled deeply near his new jaw, pleased that he still smelled very much like my Alaric. Frankincense, mint and perhaps more cypress than sandalwood…
"Stop sniffing me for one moment. I can’t think. You knew this entire time?"
I nodded. "I wanted you to tell me yourself that day in the office, but you just shut down. "I'm doing this for your own good, Stella," I mocked. His hands tightened on my waist, crushing me close, and I wiggled to make sure I could still breathe. His grip relaxed.
"I was trying to protect you. Maybe I was protecting myself as well. I knew you would find out eventually that I was the Lion you feared—and hate me."
I ran my palms experimentally to his shoulders and back again before allowing them to drift up to stroke his face. I didn’t have the nerve to inspect his horns, though I wanted to. He was different, but I could still see Alaric inside.
He stilled completely at my touch.
"When will you understand that I am absolutely serious about my feelings for you? Nothing will change my mind," I whispered. I witnessed his transformation. Soon I looked not into the eyes of the beast but into Alaric's honey brown gaze. He had shifted for me. I pressed my lips to his and felt his arms encircle my hips.
The night was perfect. He was perfect. The hunger in his lips was the response I craved. The time away from him, working in Lila's garden, trying to avoid thinking about him, seemed like no time at all. His hand dug into my hair, yanking sharply so that my head fell back, but not painfully so. His lips explored my jaw, his nose running gently along the sensitive skin of my throat as he inhaled me. He pressed his teeth to my tender skin, and I moaned, opening my eyes to take in the starry night and full moon above. He went still just before I felt a jolt.
"Remove your hands from my fiancé," Murad said in a low growl.
I followed Alaric's gaze to his right shoulder. The tip of something silver poked from the cloth of his shirt. I peered around Alaric and saw Murad, his appearance fanged and red eyed.
Alaric gently put me down and pushed me behind him. I shrieked to see the large dagger that pierced his left shoulder blade. Had Murad literally stabbed his own brother in the back?
"Stella, would you mind pulling that out for me? I cannot heal if it remains there," Alaric asked me quietly over his shoulder. I felt sick but took a deep breath and gingerly grasped the black leather handle of the knife. I gave a testing tug and it barely moved, embedded in bone as it was. My stomach churned. Alaric kept talking to Murad as I tried again.
"Murad, I would ask you to allow me to explain, but you don't seem open to a conversation right now," Alaric said in a low voice.
"An explanation? I saw you ravage her. You were supposed to be protecting her—not seducing her," Murad ground out, a second blade appearing in his hand.
Anxious, I pulled harder at the dagger in Alaric's shoulder, wincing at his soft grunt. Black liquid dripped and then turned to ash before it could hit the ground. What the hell?
"Seducing her? I would hardly call a few juvenile kisses a seduction, brother," Alaric said in a dismissive tone.
Juvenile kisses? The flat of my palm tapped hard against the hilt of the blade, driving it deeper into bone. To his credit, he didn't make a sound. I stepped around Alaric.
"No one seduced me, Murad. Are we living in the dark ages? It was me. I kissed him." I may as well have been invisible. He continued to glare murderously at his younger brother. Grayson appeared from the shadows, followed by Tess.
"Sir, there is a report that an army of something unknown is assembling nearby," Grayson told Alaric. Tess wrung her hands, wild eyes moving from my mussed hair to Murad's face.
A vibration buzzed in the air until a shimmer was visible around Alaric's outline—and then he once again resembled the fearsome creature from the Hall. He reached behind his shoulder and pulled the dagger out in one yank. Nausea stirred at the wet sound the blade made as it tore free.
He turned quickly, scooped me off my feet, and transferred us back to the Hall. This time we appeared in the doorway of the Grand Council chamber. The others appeared seconds behind us. He put me down immediately and stalked away without a backwards glance.
I turned and watched him join Murad as they walked together towards the main hall. Murad looked back at me once, concern and perhaps a twinge of disappointment etched on his handsome face. Amanda stood at the entrance to the main hall, twisting her hands. I offered her a small smile, hoping to put her at ease.
Tess grabbed my upper arms too tightly, making me wince. I didn't complain, seeing the worry in her eyes.
"Are you alright, Stella?" she asked. I nodded, a bit unbalanced to be in two places within seconds. The gulf between Alaric and me seemed greater than ever. I’d now upset Murad and caused friction between them. This day would be one for the record books.
"Murad really scared the entire community over the actions of a few in the Hall. I'm so sorry if you were upset. We're about to begin the Council meeting. Please come in while I seal the door. Everyone else is present," she said.
From inside, it became clear that the circular chamber was actually a tower. A tower set within the center of the castle. Windowless stone walls curved, opening high above into a night sky without ceiling. Every few yards, water trickled down the stone walls into wood and glass troughs that emptied into others. The center of the room boasted an enormous round table made of iridescent stone. In the center of the table was a small fire pit, its flame crackling. Fire flickered from various torches, making the walls appear alive. Concealed vents blew air that swirled about the tower in a continual breeze.
Beneath our feet were intricately knotted silk carpets in vibrant colors. I looked upward, marveling at the moon framed within the circular hole. Bromely coughed at my side.
"The room holds all of the sacred elements. The stones in the wall honor the year and seasons, but you can see those better during the day. Let me show you where to sit," she offered, and I followed her.
The table held ten seats. Marcella sat to the right of a glowering Daria. Clara next to Bromely, a man introduced to me a
s Flynn took the seat at Tess's right. Tess took her place and I sank into a chair. Across from me was the wizened old man from the dais. Clara introduced him as Babak, the Spirit Wizard King.
"As we do not need Stella for the entire meeting, I thought we could begin by confirming her membership to my coven," Clara began.
"I'm afraid that's not possible," Daria said. "She's non-magick and therefore excluded from our membership." Clara tilted her head to one side, her lips curling in disgust.
"I knew you were going to pull this. Why do you always have to be such a crotch Nazi, Demir?" asked Clara. Tess put her hands up in a soothing gesture. Babak smiled at me as he settled deeper into his seat. I hadn't heard the guy speak once, and with this crowd I could see why.
"Come now, Daria. It's only a matter of time..." began Tess, but Daria banged both hands against the table, her rings and bracelets striking its surface in sharp jangles.
"Absolutely not—and without a three-quarter majority she cannot be voted in, either." Daria gave Clara a malicious smile that generously broadened to include me.
"Then it is good I am here," said a voice behind us.
Several people emerged near the firelight brightened doorway. My jaw dropped with recognition as they approached. Within a heartbeat, every witch at the table but Daria and myself had a Pagatio in hand. Tess held a black wand that looked like tourmaline. Clara's was a pink quartz with red smoky shadows. Babak held an unusual feather.
"This is impossible. I sealed the tower!" cried Tess.
"The seal keeps out those who don't belong. I belong."
My grandmother Mahari stepped to the table and took the empty seat at my left. My cousins Midora and Mira flanked her chair. I gaped at them, but they studiously avoided my gaze. Stunned, I could think of nothing to say. This was worse than when she showed up on my first day of middle school.
"As heir to the last Fire Queen, I belong at this table as much as you do."
"I would know if that were true," a confused-looking Clara said. "Unfortunately, the last Fire Witch died with her heirs in Auschwitz."