Red Magic: an Adult Dystopian Paranormal Romance: Sector 6 (The Othala Witch Collection)

by JC Andrijeski

  I felt that urgency on him grow so intense I could scarcely breathe.

  I felt him holding back, too, trying to ease me into this.

  His fingers slid back inside me then, and he let out the heaviest groan yet.

  “Gods below... you’re wet,” he said, his mouth against my neck. “Maia... tell me. Do ye need me to do this slower? Do ye want to just kiss and touch for awhile? I can go slower. I can do whatever you want.” He let out another pained-sounding groan. “If ye don’t tell me, I’m going to put my cock in ye, though. So tell me what you want... please, love.”

  I stroked his back, tightening my legs around him.

  “I want you inside me,” I murmured, flushing.

  He groaned again, seemingly from my words, or perhaps from the images that went with them in his mind.

  Either way, he didn’t hesitate for long.

  He raised himself up on his arms. Positioning my body under his, he gripped my hip in one hand, watching my face as he held me down with the other. He still watched my face as he eased into me slowly, pausing only to clench his jaw, controlling himself visibly before he slid the rest of the way in.

  By the end it did hurt a little, but not in a way I minded.

  It also felt so good I dug my fingers into his back, wrapping my legs around him tighter. He hung there, unmoving while I did, gasping as he seemed to be controlling himself once more, letting me get used to the feel of him inside me.

  Again, I couldn’t help wondering how often he’d been another’s first time.

  “Maia,” he said, breaking into my thoughts. He looked down at me, his eyes lit from within. “Maia, I love ye. Ye must know I love ye.”

  My breath caught. Gripping his hair in my hands, I pulled his mouth back to mine.

  We kissed for what felt like a long time.

  Somewhere in that, he started moving over me.

  Slow at first, then gradually less slow.

  Within another handful of minutes, I was crying out at each precise aim of his hips, holding on to him as we fell into a heavier, deeper rhythm. He had a hand fisted in my hair, his eyes glassed as he watched my face. He threw his weight into me harder as his expression tightened, and I felt him let go of that control altogether. A flush of liquid heat wound through my body when he did, blanking my mind.

  Not long after that, I was calling his name.

  He responded by arching into me harder, groaning at each end of each thrust.

  I felt him tipping then, on the verge of losing control for real...

  After that, I didn’t think about him bedding other witches again.

  Chapter 18

  FRONT LINES

  I WOKE UP not alone, for the first time in my life.

  My upper body curled contentedly atop a muscular chest, my belly and groin pressing against his ribs and hip on one side, my back pressing against a muscular arm on the other. My leg coiled around one of his, resting comfortably between both of them. His head tilted at an angle on my pillow, his expression smooth, as contented-looking as I felt. He breathed deeply, one hand wrapped around my arm that lay over his chest, the other resting easily on my rear end.

  I felt nothing but peace from him, woven through with a heated satisfaction.

  Remembering the night before, a small smile touched my mouth.

  It faded seconds later, however.

  Donal would be leaving that day.

  Somehow, the thought made me nervous. Not for him in terms of his fighting skills, or his skills with magic; I didn’t doubt Donal the warlock and fighter.

  I knew he could handle himself. I’d seen enough of his fights in the ring, enough exercises with him carrying weapons of various kinds, or even no weapons at all, to know he was skilled, even compared to the other fighters here.

  No, his fighting ability wasn’t what worried me.

  It was something else: a foreboding I couldn’t quite shake, one that felt connected to me in some way. One that felt connected to the ravagers in the north.

  I knew that made no sense, though.

  I considered waking Donal up, asking him if he felt anything in my fears.

  I didn’t particularly wish to wake him, though, given where he’d be going later that day and what he’d be doing. I wouldn’t be doing him any favors if I sent him off to a life and death fight more sleep-deprived than he was already.

  Before I could make up my mind, a knock came at my door.

  Donal jerked under me, even as I raised my head.

  By the time I was sitting up, he was too.

  We exchanged looks, then I got up, calling out to the person or persons at the door to wait.

  I called for them a second time a few minutes later, telling them to come in.

  I stood by the open wardrobe when the door opened, having just thrown on pants and a dark shirt. Both were of a style familiar to me now, being roughly what I wore daily under combat armor since I’d first woken up in the Black Fortress.

  Donal was back in the clothes I’d seen him in the night before, when he first woke me up. He sat on the bed, lacing up the first of his boots, when the surprisingly large party of witches and warlocks walked in through my door.

  I counted eight of them, all wearing combat clothes, as if they’d just come in from the range. Most of those faces I did not recognize. A few others, I’d seen but knew little more than their names and that they oversaw military operations inside ravager territory.

  At their head was Luna, the only one of the group I knew for real.

  I saw her eyebrows rise perceptibly when she saw Donal sitting on the rumpled sheets of my bed, lacing his boots. No trace of that reaction made it to her voice, however.

  “Ah,” she said, businesslike. “You are both here. Good. News has come to us from the Capitol. News that affects you both. It cannot wait.”

  I walked towards them from the wardrobe, buckling the gun harness around my shoulders. I’d managed to shove my feet into socks and boots as well, but they still weren’t laced.

  “What news?” A faint alarm touched my voice as I remembered the misgivings I’d felt when I woke that morning. “Did something happen?”

  “Yes.” Luna’s gaze swiveled from Donal to me. “The Regent, Kalia, has died.”

  I froze, halfway to taking a seat on the wooden bench at the foot of my bed. For a moment, I only stared at her, doubting her words.

  Then, bending my knees to close the last distance to the cushion, I sank the rest of the way down and stared up at Luna.

  A hard ball began to form in my belly.

  “She’s dead?” My voice came out low, almost a whisper. “Kalia is dead?”

  I hadn’t been close to my aunt.

  I never even knew her, really, and only saw her at official functions. Most often, I’d be lucky to see her long enough to present her with some gift. On some occasions, those gifts went in the opposite direction, from her to me.

  In both cases, as per protocol, we rarely exchanged words.

  Even so, she’d been kind to me.

  Never once had she called me to task for my poor performance in the monk’s school. She never embarrassed me for that fact, nor tried to have me replaced.

  I’d been told by those who remembered other Regents than my aunt was a good one. Kind and fair, slow to anger and selfless in her judgments. They said she had done much to further the poorer classes among the humans, and much to improve the welfare of the District 6 citizens as a whole. She was someone I harbored a distant respect for, even tried to emulate in some ways.

  Truthfully, I’d always felt a bit sorry for her, though.

  My whole life, my Aunt Kalia had been strangely unattainable, living in her lonely quarters with no companions apart from servants, courtiers and, of course, my mother. She’d never been allowed to have a life outside the narrow confines she’d been given. Unlike many, I never envied her that role. Nor did I underestimate the isolation that must come with it.

  To me, such a life sounded li
ke a version of hell in the material plane, no matter what power she wielded. It was duty, yes, and I admired her for that, and for doing the work without complaining or showing any strain. But the price was dear.

  Due to her status, no one was even allowed to touch her.

  It made her seem like a holy relic to me, more than a woman.

  “How?” I said only.

  Luna’s expression turned grim. “That is part of what we must discuss.”

  Motioning to the others, they all found chairs from around the one table in the room. Placing those chairs in a kind of half-circle facing me and Donal, they all took seats.

  I glanced around again at their faces, noting a second time that I only recognized about half from my time in the Fortress. All of them were older than me and Donal, most by at least a few decades. The youngest of them might have been Luna herself, and she had to be in her late thirties or early forties.

  “The Defenders will come here soon,” Luna continued, glancing back at my closed bedroom door, as if listening for them now. “We haven’t much time. But know that foul play is suspected in Kalia’s death... although, not officially. Officially, it came about due to natural causes, occurring in her sleep. Unofficially, there is a strong connection to the death of another of the Regent’s Blood, which took place two days later.”

  I blanched. “Another death? Who? Who else died?”

  “Sister to the Regent, Nalia.”

  I stared at at Luna in shock.

  Nalia was another aunt of mine, the next one down in age from Kalia herself. In age, it went: Kalia, Nalia, my mother, Annika , then my youngest aunt, Jalinee, Karlen’s wife.

  My two oldest aunts were dead.

  Like Kalia herself, Nalia had never borne children. It was whispered she was barren, and could not conceive. It was also the reason why I was made successor to the Regent, in that I was the first child born within the Regent’s immediate bloodline.

  As the thought crossed my mind, I frowned, glancing at Donal, who was watching me, a faint frown on his lips. Turning back to Luna, I felt my confusion worsen.

  “Who will be Regent now?” I said. “Surely my Aunt Jalinee’s daughter is too young?”

  Uncle Karlen and Aunt Jalinee’s daughter, Zola, was only eight years old.

  “She is too young,” Luna confirmed. “They could not make an exception, as they might if she’d been a half-dozen years older. Your mother...” Luna hesitated, then amended her words. “...The woman who had previously claimed to be your biological mother, the Lady Annika, was sworn in as Regent last night.”

  “What?” Donal sat straight on the bed. “That’s not possible! She carried a child!”

  Luna shook her head. “No,” she said, addressing him.

  Looking at me, an apology touching her eyes, she went on in a gentler voice.

  “The Lady Annika now claims that the child... you, Maia... belonged to her sister, Nalia. She says Nalia had the child out of wedlock and could not bear the shame, so she gave you to her sister, Annika, to raise in her stead.”

  “Nalia?” I looked at Donal, dumbfounded. “Nalia is my mother?”

  I’d scarcely known Nalia at all.

  She’d always struck me as a deeply timid person, totally under the thumb of my mother. My only memories of her involved her fondness for gossip and chocolate cakes, and a small furry brown dog she used to carry around with her. I’d been fond of the dog as a child and used to feed it scraps under the table when my mother wasn’t looking.

  In my dimmer, much younger memories, I remembered a wide lap for sitting and a jiggly laugh that always made me giggle. She’d been fat and jowly and kind and timid, but I couldn’t say I’d ever felt much affinity for her.

  It’s possible I simply hadn’t known her, though, beyond my mother’s dour criticisms of her sister’s weight and contempt for her general demeanor at the court.

  I knew nothing about her, either.

  The idea of Nalia being my mother, with a forbidden lover in her youth, was a side of my aunt I’d never even glimpsed.

  “How did they die?” I repeated.

  Luna sighed. Leaning over her thighs, she clasped her hands, looking up at me seriously.

  “Your Aunt Kalia is said to have died in her sleep. The physicians are calling it some kind of brain aneurism, but as I said, the word from other sources is that it did not happen that way. As the cutting up the body of a Regent, even in an autopsy, is strictly forbidden, the causes may never be known for sure. It is said there were no signs of struggle, or of any of the common poisons. I am told there were also no visible signs of asphyxiation.”

  “And my Aunt Nalia?” I said, my voice harder.

  Luna unclasped her hands, holding them out in a supplicating position, as if praying.

  “She was murdered, Maia,” she said simply. “Do you need to know more than that?”

  “How?” I said, my voice harder. “What is the official word of the court?”

  Luna let out another slow exhale.

  “Her name came up as the successor to the Regent’s chair immediately following Kalia’s death. Since Princess Zola is too young, and Nalia was thought to be unmarried and childless, she was the logical choice. When it came to the point of discussion where the council was asked to render any objections upon the group, the Lady Annika stood up, however, and relayed her story about your birth. She also claimed that her sister, Nalia, had you killed so that you would not ascend to the throne following your twenty-first birthday.”

  I swallowed, again looking at Donal.

  Anger darkened his brow, but he didn’t move from the bed. He leaned against the headboard, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “It should be said, Nalia denied every aspect of this story,” Luna added, her eyes watching me sympathetically. “Vehemently, it is said.”

  I felt sick. “So who murdered her?” I said.

  “It is said a group among the Regent’s Guard did it, in retaliation for your murder.”

  A sinking feeling made my stomach churn. Again, I looked at Donal. I knew from the dark look on his face, he understood as well as me.

  “She eliminated all the witnesses,” I said, turning back to Luna. “Everyone who was in the crypt that night. Everyone who saw me arrested by order of Lady Annika, and led to the river in chains.” Swallowing another surge of nausea, I asked, “What happened to those among the Regent’s Guards? The specific soldiers accused of killing Nalia?”

  “They are said to be imprisoned, awaiting execution.”

  That pain in my gut worsened.

  Garet. It had to be. Garet, Bila, Tran. They and all of the Regent’s Guard who had been in the volcanic-glass Fire Temple that night. If my mother really was orchestrating all of this––and I guessed she must be, if she was taking the throne after blaming my murder on my Aunt Nalia––she would want everyone dead who could refute her story about what occurred.

  “They did tests on her,” Luna said. “Lady Annika. Before she took the throne.”

  I turned, and saw Luna’s eyes studying me.

  “What kinds of tests?” I said.

  “Before I answer, I should tell you, Maia... we are of the impression those tests were done by outside parties, and are beyond reproach.” Luna paused, her voice growing more meaningful. “Lady Annika is barren, Maia. Whatever the truth of your Aunt Nalia, the Lady Annika could not have been your biological mother. Moreover, there was some evidence that she remained a virgin, even at her age. It is why she was accepted as Regent.”

  I stood up. Pacing the long, wool throw rug before the fireplace, I tried to wrap my mind around everything I’d just heard.

  “There is more, Maia. Please sit.”

  I turned, staring at her, my arms folded tightly over my chest.

  “What about Nalia?” I said, still on my feet. “Did they test her? Confirm my mother’s story about her giving birth?”

  “No.” Luna shook her head. “They were unable. Nalia’s body was burned i
n the city’s crematorium before any such tests could be made. It is unclear who gave that order, but it was completed before any formal protest could be lodged. In the aftermath, we are told it was ruled irrelevant who your parentage was, given the facts of your and Nalia’s deaths. You are to be listed as Nalia’s biological daughter in the records, based on your Aunt Annika’s word.”

  I stared at her, fighting tears.

  Clenching my jaw to hold them back, I shifted my weight between my feet, trying to decide how to react.

  “Sit, Maia,” Luna said, her voice gentle. “Please. There is still more.”

  Seeing the grim look living in her expression, I walked stiffly back to the bench and sat down. Folding my arms without taking my eyes off her, I waited for her to go on, my lips pressed together, my breath shallow in my chest.

  “Speak,” I said, when she didn’t.

  Luna took another deep breath.

  “We have received our first orders from the new Regent, the Lady Annika,” she said, letting her breath out in a slow exhale. “Those orders came via the same envoy that brought us news of the change in command, as well as everything I just relayed to you, all of what occurred in the Capitol over this past week.”

  She hesitated, glancing at Donal.

  Her eyes returned to mine more reluctantly.

  “There is no easy way to say this, Maia.” She clasped her hands. “You are being deployed to the front lines. You are to accompany Donal and Phoenix Squad to the fighting in the north, to assist Eagle Four in containing the wall breach. Defenders will escort you from your room to ensure this takes place, likely within the hour. We’ve already officially made you a member of Squadron 9, Phoenix Squad, as per instructions from the Regent Annika herself.”

  From the bed behind me, Donal cursed.

  He didn’t stop with just one curse, either. He continued for a full minute.

  He used words I’d never heard before, from him or anyone else.

  As for me, my eyes never left Luna’s.

  I just stared at her, seeing the helpless fury in her eyes, as well as the message behind her words, one I could not fail to understand.