Page 152 of An Empress of Fire & Steel

Heart thundering, Emara asked through her teeth, “And why would you feel like that is the case?”

“Because, my uneducated witchling, that is the cruel reality of the natural witch cycle.”

The Maiden, the Mother, the Crone.

The Witch, the Empress, the Supreme.

“When one great witch rises, one must fade and fall.” Deleine sneered, her face looking more like something that belonged in a pack of wolves than a coven.

“You can’t for one second think that I am causing your weakness,” Emara spat, an acidic rage burning at the back of her throat. “I am so new to this world.” She shook her head. “I am barely trained. My magic is untutored, and I am not strong enough.” She looked to her leader, intensity blazing in her eyes. “You are mistaken.”

Emara understood the cycle of the Supreme, and it was clear that Deleine did not accept her fate. There were four other witches that were probably stronger than Emara. But they didn’t seem to be here. Rya was not here, even after she’d declared that she bore every element.

“It has everything to do with you, you stupid girl.” The Supreme’s eyes darkened as simmering loathing seeped through.

“It can’t be.” Emara’s voice cracked a little. “I have just ascended.”

“It has nothing to do with your ascension,” the Supreme spat. “Although that might cause the cycle to quicken. Some witches reign for longer than they should. Some have short reigns. And some,” she said, venom spewing through her teeth, “abdicate, unfit for their purpose.”

She ignored the slander of her grandmother.

Emara swallowed, unsure if she even wanted the next question that was about to fall from her mouth to be answered. “If you truly believe my presence on this earth is your downfall, then why haven’t you just killed me? Wouldn’t that have been easier than going through the hassle of abducting me? You had your chance tonight to strike me down. I was unguarded, unprotected. Why haven’t you taken it yet?”

The Supreme grinned like she had no heart or soul left in her body, only a bitter darkness that consumed her features, turning what was once a beautiful face ugly.

Emara’s body shuddered at the very sight of it.

“Because where is the fun in that?”

If the Supreme had wanted Emara dead, she could have ordered her guards to kill her in her room.

A single quiver ran up Emara’s spine.

But she had kept her alive for a purpose.

“So your plan was to bring me here?” She looked around, still not understanding why the guards were betraying their oath. “And then what? Ritual me to death?” Emara let out a sharp, mad laugh as she gestured to the circle. She wasn’t sure if it was the concussion she surely had or the blood loss from her wounds, but she decided she wasn’t going to back down, and maybe that made her crazy.

She wasn’t going to back down now, not when she had come so far within herself.

“As a matter of fact, I do plan on a ritual, yes.” Deleine’s smile relaxed, showing where her face had aged slightly. “But the plan was never for you to die.” Her cold eyes dragged down Emara’s face as she twisted the knife in the air like she was writing a letter. “Not when you are so valuable, the perfect bargaining chip.”

Taymir had said something similar. Emara’s blood ran cold.

“Why is it everyone just talks in bloody riddles around here?” Emara barked. “Are you going to enlighten me as to why you have your guards bashing me unconscious? There really was no need for the dramatics. I could have walked here.”

Deleine’s eyebrow shot up. “I thought you would have worked it out by now, no? You were investigating your bloodline before the Uplift. Did my darling Taymir not give you any other clues?”

Taymir had been working with her.

Emara tried not to panic or lose control. Torin had always taught her to keep focus, keep someone talking in a situation like this. He’d taught her to buy herself more time, but she was terrified of where this was about to go.

The Supreme laughed, her cackle travelling through the room, her eyes narrowing. “You really have no idea who you are, do you?”

Deleine’s lips pressed together, amused, and a shiver ran down Emara’s neck.

“Yes, I know who I am.” Her voice shook. “It took me a while,” Emara admitted. “But I do. I am the granddaughter of Theodora Clearwater, and I come from a great line of witches. Ones who looked better wearing the crown of Supremacy than you.”

“Oh, so naive.” The Supreme’s brows raised, creasing her forehead, and then she lowered them quickly. “You take one lover, and you think you have found yourself.” She clicked her tongue, and a dreadful sound of laughter spilled out. “You think you know who you are inside.”

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