Page 67 of The Blood Witch

The room was spinning around her. Fey set her wineglass on the table and leaned forward, nestling her head between her knees.

Callum chuckled and rubbed comforting circles over her back and shoulders.

“I think our father is closer to five hundred, at this point,” Callum said. “But I doubt that makes it better, does it?”

Fey just groaned.

“He wasn’t at all surprised by you, you know,” Callum continued. “Our father. It made perfect sense to him that you would be the one to steal his son’s heart. After all, they’ve always been more alike than Alastair ever wanted to admit.”

“What do you mean?” Fey asked.

“A powerful Witch? Capable of tearing down an entire regime almost entirely on her own?” Callum asked. “Cassiel fell in love with a woman just like that over three hundred years ago, Fey.”

“You don’t mean…” Fey sat up, twisting toward Callum, open-mouthed. “Callum, you cannot be telling me that your father was in love with the Witch Queen. The First Queen.”

Callum’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “You Witches really don’t remember a lot of your own history, do you? Yes, Fey.” He smiled. “He was in love with her. And she was in love with him, too. But, sometimes, love isn’t enough. He was furious with her when she crowned herself queen, you know. That’s why he did it, why he made that stupid proclamation declaring himself king. And I can only assume the fact that sheloved him was why she didn’t kill him outright for the sheer audacity of it…”

“Goddess,” Fey whispered, putting her head back between her knees. “Callum, this is all a little too much for me.”

He laughed again but continued to pat her back. “I am sorry, Fey. I had no idea you Witches had forgotten that bit of your history. I assumed you knew.”

“We’re not taught a lot about the First Queen,” Fey murmured, her voice muffled by her legs. “We’re not even taught her name…”

“Thea,” a voice said softly from the door. “Her name was Thea.” Fey sat up. Alastair stood there in the doorway, looking in at the two of them. His eyes looked… sad. Hurt.

“Father still talks about her. I think she might have been the only woman he ever really loved,” he continued sadly.

“So, your family has a type?” Fey asked.

“I guess we do,” Callum told her with a wink. “Let me know if any of the males in your Faction ever develop powers. I am single, after all.”

“Come on, Witchling,” Alastair said, approaching the couch where they sat. “It’s time to go.”

The smile slipped from Callum’s face.

“I take it your meeting with Father didn’t go well, then?” he asked, gaze locked on the ground rather than meeting Alastair’s eyes.

“That’s the understatement of the century.” He held out his hand for Fey and she took it, letting him help her to her feet. Callum stood, brushing his hands over the rich fabric of his dress shirt self-consciously.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to spend more time together,” Callum said softly to Fey. He took her other hand, kissing the back of her fingers again. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Fey. I truly mean that.”

Fey smiled. “It was a pleasure to meet you, too. And thanks… for clearing some things up for me.”

He grinned. “Of course. Evil thrives in ignorance. I think truth is the only thing that can drive it away, don’t you?”

She didn’t know, so she kept quiet.

“Please, do come and visit us again,” Callum said. But the pain in his eyes, and the way Alastair’s grip tightened on her hand, made Fey think neither of them believed that would be happening anytime soon.

Chapter 30

AMALIA

This is a disaster, Amalia thought.

She frowned at the rapidly cooling tea on the table, at the teacup Vee hadn’t even touched.

This was such a stupid idea, she thought to herself, slouching over her own teacup and taking a sip. She should have known this was a stupid idea.

---