Page 14 of The Rat King
I didn’t like his tone and how he seemed to belittle the rituals of my heritage. Of course,Iunderstood the significance. There was a reason they did things at certain positions of the planets and the moon.
“Sounds like a Metonic cycle.” When his brow wrinkled as if he didn’t have a clue what I was talking about, I said, “It lasts for two hundred thirty-five lunations before it repeats, and the moon cycle returns to the same place once again to repeat the pattern. She would have used the lunar reset to harness more power.” Enough power to curse an entire plane?
I shivered as my mind speared off in a different direction. “When was Nighval born?” I asked. “You said he was nineteen when your father was killed, and she enacted the curse?”
“That’s not important,” he said, but a seed lodged in my mind. He went on. “What is important is knowing that I am willing to take care of you in any way I can to soften your heart to me. If you could learn to love me, see me as the man I am.” Xavier stood, stepping toward the bed, and I edged back until I bumped into the headboard.
Before I could shut the faucet of my mouth off, I blurted, “I could never love—” and caught myself before I said more.
Xavier stopped short, his features going taut. “A monster like me,” he finished for me, but that wasn’t what I’d been about to say. Hurt flashed across his eyes, and he stared at me for a long while before he spun and stormed from the room. I flew out of bed and chased him out into the hallway.
“I’m sorry, Xavier. I didn’t mean to,” I called to his fleeing back. “You don’t understand. It’s not the rat thing…” And he didn’t understand. I’d agreed to the marriage, and I’d hoped for the fairytale, but no one had ever said anything about love. My heart ached because no matter how hard I tried, I didn’t think I could force myself to fall into love withhim. If it was a different man in this form, maybe I could get past the rat thing over time, but the spark wasn’t there. In fact, my romantic feelings toward him were quite the opposite.
He stopped before he turned the corner, throwing a grimace over his shoulder. “I understand, Avery. More than you know.”
Chapter 8
Nighval
Icaughtsightofthe witch illuminated by the light from the full moon streaming in through the open window as she rounded the end of the bookshelf I was now perusing. I needed to find a certain spell book I recalled from training as a boy, but this was a welcome distraction. Had my ridiculous brother made any progress since he’d read her that laughable poem?
“What are you up to?” I asked.
She was in another shapeless dress like the white one she’d had on the day I retrieved her from Esmerelda. That witch was one of the few witches privy to the gravity of their predicament and willing to bet the future of their kind on her own niece. An unwelcome pang of pity hit me square in the chest. It was too bad. This one had been amusing to talk to on the ride to Ravsted. Watching her fight my brother had my curiosity in full bloom. I’d not noticed a single speck of dust as I pilfered through the ancient tomes, a credit to the woman’s attention to detail and tenacity. I chuckled inwardly. The fact that she defied my brother and returned to finish cleaning the library elevated my opinion of her greatly.
The witch flinched at my voice, but lifted her chin and said, “I guess the word exile means something different in this plane.” She eyed me like she posed a question.
Begrudgingly, I would go to their wedding, which was why I was here and not on the other side of the kingdom, but I didn’t wish to speak of that with her. Xavier had given her time to warm up to our world. It should have been tonight—this first full moon—according to his grand plan, but he’d softened upon meeting her. Now I was stuck here another month.
Honestly, I was shocked he’d been able to pull it off, but this woman seemed to have a little more grit than the women the other witches had sent for me. Latent witches who were soft and sweet, pretty, and fine. Gentle-hearted women who I’d been half convinced were sent to thwart my attempts to break the curse. Neoma hadn’t even been able to speak the common tongue, English, I’d learned. Others were nominally fluent, speaking bits and pieces of many different languages in their plane. Finally, they’d sent a woman who might be able to survive the pairing and thrive in our world, and I’d given in. The pressure to step away and allow my brother a chance to woo the next and final witch finally got the better of me. I didn’t even fight the exile when it came. It was practically my idea. I was so defeated. I narrowed my eyes at the witch, who trembled, but moved toward me still.
I smirked, looking down at her. “It’s a loose exile. My brother tends to over exaggerate his power over me and he’s aware of the necessity to stay on my good side. I’m in the library because I needed a certain book, but I didn’t expect to find you here. Don’t you have a fiancé to be attending to?”
I thumbed a title and pulled it out. She did the same, mirroring my motion. Interesting that we had ventured down the same aisle.
She scanned my face, snagging on each scar, her scrutiny making me wish I’d taken a few seconds to glamor myself when I caught sight of her. It didn’t matter, though. She wasn’t mine, a knowledge that annoyed me more than it should have.
“You were right. Your brother told me about the curse,” she blurted.
I whipped my head in her direction. Of course, Xavier had told her.Idiot. When I suggested she pester him about it, I’d only meant to annoy him. I hadn’t expected he’d actually tell. The man had a weaker constitution than I anticipated. This ought to be interesting. “And?” I asked.
“He told me that the warlocks, led by you, will seek revenge on the covens if I don’t fall for him. I think it’s grotesque to threaten and punish every witch because of the actions of one.”
“I hold the witches responsible for what one of you did to us. They didn’t even respond to our pleas for help when it first happened, so I was forced to resort to threats. And don’t think for a second that your people wouldn’t do the same to us warlocks if one of us had found a way to spell their world, blocking them from their precious power.” I stepped toward her letting her see the dangerous glint I knew my eyes held.
“Your mother,” she whispered.
“Yes, my mother. I offered your Council of Matrons eighteen years’ worth of chances, witch, and not one of you had enough of a heart to break the curse. Time is up.”
“What happens if I can’t figure out how to fall in love with Xavier?” she asked, studying me.
“My mother stored up power for over a decade to be strong enough for that curse. Can you imagine how powerful I am not being able to use my power but once a full moon for a scant few hours?” A shiver wracked through the witch, and I stepped even closer. She retreated a step until her back hit the rows of books and her chest was rising and falling in quick succession. I put my arms on either side of her head and stared down at her wide eyes. “So, you’re smart enough to understand what will happen if you do not break this curse?”
“Can’t you talk to her, since she’s still here? Surely after all these years you could get her to lift it?” Her voice trembled as she made the suggestion as if in seventeen years I hadn’t tried.
“This curse doesn’t work like that. The magic she used as binding. Permanent,” I said, practically snarling as I caged her in. Little did she know my mother wasn’t the only one who’d delivered an unbreakable curse and it seemed Xavier had left that part out.
She lifted a hand and for a second I thought she was going to press it to my chest, but she held it in the air shivering between us. “You don’t have to do this. I’ll try to fall for your brother, if you promise to leave the witches alone. Please, Nighval.” My lips curled back as she pleaded my name. “Please.”
