Page 4 of The Blood Witch

Rage, hot and sudden, flashed through her. Fey opened her eyes, focusing on the pew in front of her, avoiding the stares of the congregation. Willfully ignoring their words.

Time to go.

It hurt to rein it in, to pull that power back inside of herself and lock it away once more. But she did it, just as she had done countless times over the last two years. She locked that power away, deep inside of herself, and rose to leave.

On the wooden pew she left behind, a charred imprint of her hands remained, burned into the wood.

Chapter 2

AMALIA

The world does not stop to mourn the death of a single Witch.

The morning after Willow died, the sun still rose in the east and set in the west. Birds announced the morning with song, just as they did every day, and just as they would until the end of time.

The morning after Lilith took her last icy breath, the world continued to spin as though nothing had changed. Dawn came and went. People loved one another. People hated one another. Often the two groups were one and the same.

Even the death of Queen Edelin didn’t stop the world from moving forward.

The world does not stop to mourn the death of a single Witch, even when it feels like it should.

But for Amalia, former princess of the realm, one of only two Witches alive blessed with all four natural elements, the world stopped the day her mother died. Even now, two years later, it showed no signs of starting again.

Sunlight…

Amalia blinked against the bright light bleeding into her room. She groaned, raising her hand to cover her eyes.

Sunlight.

What time was it? Morning? Afternoon?

She didn’t know. Didn’t care.

Someone had come in and opened the curtains to let the light into her room. Maybe they had meant it as a kindness. But it was so bright. So bright it hurt to look at.

She could close them. Get out of bed, close the curtains, and return that blissful dark to her room.

She could…

The effort would be too much. An overwhelming amount of work to even get up out of bed. Even imagining it exhausted her.

Eyes closed tight against the light, Amalia fumbled with her blankets, pulling them back up and over her head. Darkness returned.

She went back to sleep.

Chapter 3

FEY

It took Fey nearly three hours of strength training before she felt in control of herself again. Three hours to burn through the rage that threatened to consume her, bringing her body to the point of exhaustion. And only then did she stop. Only then did she trust herself to come back to her body and her own mind.

That white hot rage had finally dimmed, and though Fire still pulsed beneath her skin, it felt more like a dull ache, numbed by the pain in her muscles.

It was getting worse, she realized. The leash she used to hold her new powers in check was slipping more and more each day, and the tighter she gripped it, the harder it fought against her.

Day after day, Fey pushed that rage and pain down inside herself, using every ounce of restraint and power to keep it at bay. And day after day, it fought her, refusing to be tamed, refusing to be caged.

Let me out.

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