Page 169 of The Witch Queen

“But you,” I start, helpless. “You’re not a witch.”

“No,” Parnell agrees. “But neither was Ignatius. And, while I certainly cannot boast the power of the coven witches, I am a patient man. I can learn almost any skill, given time.”

“What have you done?” I breathe.

“The same thing you did,” Callen says, sneering at me. “Onlybetter.And it turns out you were right. It did matter that Margaret was my twin. One might say that we share the same heart, at least as far as that wretched mirror is concerned.”

He looks at Margaret with newfound appreciation and the last piece of this awful puzzle slots into place.

“You…cut out her heart,” I say, gaping at the mirror sheen of Margaret’s gaze.

“And put it in the king’s body, yes,” Parnell finishes, matter-of-factly. “As I said, since His Majesty served as an extension of the mirror, thespell worked the same. Except that the duchess’s heart allowed the king to come back to himself.”

No. It shouldn’t be possible. And yet—it is. Failure settles over my shoulders like a wet cloak. I clench my fists against it, against the feeling that I’m a witchling again, ungifted and useless.

“Don’t look so defeated,” Callen says, crossing to a sideboard and pouring himself a healthy glass of wine. “You may have lost this battle, but we’re going to win the war. Together.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Rycinthia, of course,” he says, taking a long drink. “We may not have much of an army. But we haveyou,wife.”

Dread oozes down my spine.

“I’ve seen the attacks,” Callen goes on. “Statues come to life. Trees uprooting themselves. That kind of power could flatten anything Rycinthia will throw at us. And that’s precisely what you’re going to do.”

“That wasn’t me. The creature—”

“Had to learn those abilities somewhere,” Callen interrupts.

“Get your minion to do it, then,” I say, jerking my chin at Parnell.

“I would,” Callen says, swirling his glass. “But he’s not a real witch. Not like you. And I’m not asking you to do anything you weren’t already planning, am I? I’ve seen the hunger in your soul. You desire that power as much as I do.”

Shame licks my insides. Because he’s right. Even now, part of me still reaches for the sort of ability I’d witnessed at the attacks.Yearnsfor it. But I’ve seen where that hunger takes me.

“I won’t help you,” I grind out.

“I thought you might say that,” he says with a sigh. “But I suggest you reconsider. Otherwise that bitch in the dungeons will meet her end—and soon.”

Jacquetta.

I was too late. Of course I was. Anger curdles in my stomach.

“You look rather pretty like that, you know,” Callen says, running the back of his finger down my jawline. “Fairest of them all.”

“Don’t touch me!” I slap him away.

Callen merely laughs. “That’s the fire I’m counting on. Embrace it. This is what you wanted, after all. To be queen. And now you will be:Mine.Forever.”

“You’ve lost your mind.”

It’s a feeble jab, but it’s all I can manage.

“No, wife. I rather think I’ve found it.” He steps closer, enough that I can smell the scent of leather and wine and smoke. The connection between us hums. “One way or another, youwillbend to me. If not…you know as well as anyone that it doesn’t take long to build a pyre.”

Callen smiles at me, all teeth, and that place behind my left ribs shudders. I can almost feel the invisible tether between us reach up to wrap around my neck, a noose waiting to be tightened.

Chapter Fifty-One