Page 137 of The Witch in the Dead of Night

“He’s my brother,” Enhart said, as if that were some kind of explanation. My fingers peeled away from him instantly. He stalked toward Mordric without hesitation, crouching at his side. Mordric accepted his offered hand as if they hadn’t nearly ripped each other to shreds just moments ago.

The sharp sting of adrenaline slowly gave way to panic as I watched them converse in hushed tones at the opposite end of the chamber. I had no idea what Enhart would make of all of this. That is, if he didn’t already know what Mordric had been planning all this time.

I shivered. As long as Mordric thought I could be used against the witch the prophecy had foretold, he would never let me be free.

My pulse pounding in my ears, I backed away toward the broken doors, not casting a second glance in their direction before I turned on my heel and fled, and not daring to take a closer look at the soldiers who were slumped atop each other just beyond the suite’s entrance.

I raced through the corridors with not a clue where I was headed. It was as if I was back in Wealdstone on that fateful day, with an angry and frightened crowd at my back. I pumped my legs faster until my surroundings blurred, bursting out of the castle and onto the dewy grass. I raced across the grounds, the silvery moonlight illuminating the path before me.

When I finally stopped, my lungs burning from the effort, I found myself at the edge of the castle grounds, the spot where Enhart had taught me how to phase.

The clearing was just like I’d imagined all those months ago. Barren throughout the cold winter, the earth was now littered with wildflowers. An array of periwinkle and bright yellow blooms poked through the soil, their petals fanning toward the sky.

The tips of my fingers grew warm as I called upon my magic. The air around me rippled, clearing a path through space. But it lasted for only a moment before going still. I cursed. I couldn’t phase myself to Vesper’s or Adele’s doorsteps without putting them at risk of defying their king. Or worse, bringing the witches and whatever nightmares they might conjure straight to their door. The only home I had left was behind me, and if I returned, Mordric would see to it that I never left.

There was nowhere left for me to run now.

“Finn.”

I spun at the sound of Enhart’s voice. The prince materialized at the edge of the clearing, a vexed expression on his face. “Finn, where are you going?”

I inhaled sharply at the sound of my name on his lips. I hated the way he said it. The way it made me feel.

“Away from here.”

“Let’s talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I spat, the words bitter on my tongue. “He thinks I’m some sort of weapon that he can control, but I’m not.”

He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “Mordric told me everything. I know that it’s not what you expected, and it’s not what I expected, either.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He closed the distance between us in the time it took me to draw a breath. I held my ground, meeting his gaze. “I would never lie to you, Finn,” he insisted. “When Mordric asked me to return to Valnar to help train a witch to be appointed to his court, all he said was that the need was urgent. I never assumed that he was telling me everything as it’s not in his nature, and I had no right to refuse him.”

“Do you really expect me to take your word for it that you didn’t know what he intended for me?”

“Yes,” he insisted. “By the time he sent us to Hollybrook, I had deduced that he had other motives, but it was far more important for you to learn to control the Ealdorfyre than it was for me to decipher his plot.”

“So now what?” I snapped. “Now that you know what he’s planning. Will you obey him, like you always do, if he tells you to keep me in that cage?”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I do not think that holding you captive here is a solution. And I would never force you to do something against your will.”

“You have no idea what that felt like,” I whispered, my voice cracking.

“I’m sorry. I should have never left you alone.”

I said nothing, turning my back to him to wipe away the tears that stung my cheeks. The trees rustled in the warm summer breeze, as if whispering to each other.

“Mordric cares about this realm more than anything,” he said quietly. “It’s no excuse for what he did, and if you want to blame me for all of this, you can. But I swear I will prove myself to you. You just have to trust me.”

I rounded on him. “Make me.”

A beat passed between us, the trill of a nightjar somewhere in the forest the only thing to break the silence. In the blink of an eye, the prince had closed the gap between us once again. My eyes widened as he loosed the steel dagger from his belt.

“What in Letlas’s name are you—”

I gasped as he drew the blade across my palm, blood seeping out of the wound it left in its wake. He did the same to himself, wrapping his fingers around mine. I stepped backward, but his grip was firm, pulling me in until I was nearly pressed against his chest. Blood welled to the surface of my palm and pooled together with his.