Page 77 of When Wishes Bleed

“I’m not leaving,” she said, balling her fists. A handle blew off the sink’s faucet and sprayed water across the room, catching us all off guard. Mira regained her composure and quickly raised her hand, using her affinity to stop the fountain, promising to repair the handle.

She stood up straight and spoke into the still-steamy mirror. “Fate won’t allow Sable to leave the Prince at this time, and Brecan and I wish to stay with her.”

Suddenly, a blurry image emerged on the steam-coated surface. “Bay?”

He tilted his head. “Can you see me, Sable?”

“Yes.”

“You truly can’t leave?”

“I can’t.”

Mira chimed in, “Fate was furious when I gave her your message.”

Bay looked at me with concern in his dark blue eyes. “Were you injured?”

“No, but if I attempted to leave Tauren, I would be.”

He took in a deep breath. His wavy gray hair undulated like surface water. His dark blue eyes speared mine. “We need you here, but it’s too dangerous to bring the Prince to Thirteen now.”

“Why do you need me?” I asked, ticking my head back in surprise. “Why is it dangerous for him to enter our sector?”

“Has Mira told you that Ela is dying?”

“Yes.”

He seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “Sable, if Ela dies, Cyril – your mother – will wake.”

“What?” I could feel my brows touch.

“If Ela dies, Cyril will wake,” he said again, sterner and louder than before. I’d heard his words, but didn’t understand what he was saying.

“My mother is dead.”

He shook his head. “No one could kill her. Not even the four of us together. So, we did the only thing we could.”

“What did you do?” I whispered.

“Ela bound her in the soil.”

My throat constricted. I could almost feel particles of dirt inside my nostrils. Caked in my throat. The taste of a grave in my mouth.

They buried her alive. She’d been under the earth for seventeen years.

I wrapped my arms around my ribs, unable to breathe. No wonder they were frightened. If someone buried me and held me in the soil for even a moment, I’d claw my way out and make them pay for every suffocating, agonizing second.

Bay was still talking, but the cool air from my room was thinning the steam. Bay began to fade. “Brecan, turn the hot water on again,” Mira instructed, closing the washroom door and stuffing a towel into the space at the bottom of the door. We waited as the steam built and for Bay’s face to grow bolder again.

The first words he spoke were, “Sable, you need to be on constant guard.”

“Why? She is no longer Fate’s chosen. Why are you frightened?” I asked.

Bay shook his head. “Even without Fate, she’s one of the strongest witches to have ever lived.”

My mother no longer required Fate’s powers, and that was a terrifying thing to consider. Could she really be as big a threat as they believed her to be?

“Witches are trying to kill the Prince,” Mira blurted.

---