Page 53 of Their Fated Magic

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m not the best with my magic, but I’ll do everything I can to cure the Illness. You just have to know that it’s possible that I can’t. And it’s a certainty that you got yourself a shitty witch.” I let out a shaky breath and finally raise my eyes to meet theirs.

The men look at each other with grins and smiles on their faces. They honestly look like I just told them a funny story rather than poured my heart out. Which makes no sense at all.

“What are you talking about?” Arlys asks, his smile widening. “Is this a joke?”

Garrick takes a step closer to me. “Yeah, from what I’ve seen, you’re an amazing witch. I mean, you melted a giant monster with a single word.”

“You’re a lot of things, but a bad witch isn’t one of them,” Rinan adds, his gaze gentling.

“You don’t understand…”

Drogo snorts. “Tara, you’re a good witch. We have faith in you. But we don’t expert perfection. If you can’t figure out the cure, we’ll find another solution. By working together.”

“You’re serious?” I ask, staring.

He gives me a smile that makes my pulse race. “I’m serious.”

Arlys slips his hand in mine. “You made the valknut in the Deadly Passage. You made the leaves dance for the children. You made magical swords and daggers. You helped my father feel better. Over and over again, you’ve used your magic, and it’s worked perfectly. I think whoever you were back home doesn’t matter, because, here, you’re a good witch.”

I stare. “I hadn’t thought to look at it like that.”

Since coming here, I’ve been using my magic really well, even discovering magic I didn’t know I could use. I’ve never once been the crappy witch I was back home. Maybe something really is different. Maybe I’m different.

“I just don’t get it. Why am I doing so much better here than I ever have my entire life?”

How am I so easily using my magic here, but when I would try my hardest back home, all I did was fail? I shake my head, not understanding. All I’ve known is failure. Why would it be any different here?

Rinan takes my hand. “Without all the threats, fear, pressure, and punishments, maybe you are actually a really good witch. Deep down. They just never gave you a safe place to show it.”

Those two words don’t go together next to my name. I’m not a “good witch.” I’ve never been good at anything except Metal Magic, and that’s useless. Witches don’t need weapons.

“I don’t know if I believe that, but I hope you’re right,” I confess.

I wish I was as good as they think I am. They need me to be this good because their lives actually depend on it. I let out a breath. I have to do what I can to save all of them.

“I believe it,” Drogo says, walking over and hugging me tightly before releasing me. “We all do.”

My men gather around me, something I’ve come to love that they do. They wrap me up in their arms, holding me and making me feel so loved. And squished. If I didn’t have a thousand memories where I felt like human garbage, maybe I’d believe them. But I try to, I really do.

Either way, I feel relieved I told them the truth. A little of the pressure I felt is off my shoulders. But still, it’s there. A whole shifter kingdom is depending on me. A fuck-up. A failure. But their only chance, even still.

TWENTY-SIX

Arlys

“There!” Tara yells, pointing up ahead.

My heart beats faster. Did she do it? Did she really find what’s causing the Illness?

She runs with determination toward the rushing waterfall, her dark hair whipping behind her as she moves. My gaze moves to where she pointed. To the rushing river. The water cascades down the mountain, creating a dazzling spray. Drops of water bounce off rocks and plants around the waterfall making the whole area misty. It’s beautiful. A surprise. But not what she’s pointing at.

I rush after her, sensing the others just behind me, until I see it. And the second it comes into view, I know exactly what it is. There’s a tangled web of metal and crystals taking up the space where the water comes out, creating a chaotic and unnatural appearance. The tangle is grotesque, a jumble of sharp edges and shimmering reflections. The crystals vary in color, but none of them are pretty. They’re all dark and ominous-looking, and they seem to twist and writhe in the water’s flow.

It’s an ugly mass, and I imagine that I can feel the negative energy coming from it. It’s dark and twisted, and I know in my gut that it’s doing terrible things to the water. How did the witches get here to put this up? When? And why? Why make the deal if they were just going to poison us to death?

“This is it,” Tara says, edging closer to inspect the web. “This is the source of the Illness. If I can get rid of it, your people will stop getting sick.”

“What the fuck?” Drogo growls.

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