I shrugged. Cordelia’s eyes narrowed.

“There were once witches and warlocks who lived in harmony,” Cordelia said. “Bonds existed between the species and within the two species. When such a bond formed, that witch or warlock would burn worlds for their partner. They would do great and terrible things to protect each other.”

“Anchor bonds,” Freya whispered and hung her head

“You learned about those too,” Cordelia tutted. Her gaze flitted between Freya and me. “Did you learn what force is powerful enough to intertwine the very magic of two beings? What force is capable of linking souls?”

The answer tumbled from my lips. “Love.”

Cordelia smiled. “Yes. And guess what destroyed such wondrous bonds and pushed warlocks into extinction?”

Freya’s jaw clenched. “Love.”

“The sorceress used to identify with a different label,” Cordelia prattled on and paced in front of Elle’s prone form.“She used to call herself a witch. When her Anchor betrayed her, she became something…more. Something worse.”

“She became the sorceress,” Cady deduced.

Cordelia nodded. “And her wrath did not end with her beloved. She cursed an entire species out of existence—the magical male counterparts of witches transformed into killers.”

Freya gasped. “She cursed them to behunters?”

I had always found it odd how heavily hunters relied on the thing they hated most—magic. I thought of my dad and his horrific end.

But we couldn’t bring him back because he didn’t have an Anchor.

Freya had beenmyAnchor before I ever transitioned from a hunter into a warlock. She was the tether to my cursed magic and soul before my second life ever started.

“Yes,” Cordelia answered. “And the sorceress would have cursed us all if she hadn’t been stopped. She is the reason love is banned among witches. The whole world would burn for love.”

Cordelia let her words hang in the air, before she continued.

“It’s why the chimera must be contained eternally,” the High Witch explained. She fixed a disheveled edge of Elle’s shift. “If I can keep her alive forever without killing her, she’ll never grow into the full extent of her power, and the sorceress will never rise. There will be no more panic and hunting and killing. There will be peace.”

As I studied my bloodied, shackled friends, I realized Cordelia’s and my definitions of peace clearly differed. The gray-haired Handmaiden who gripped Freya cleared her throat.

“Your Majesty?” the Handmaiden said. Her pale throat bobbed. “It’s almost time.”

Cordelia looked over her shoulder. The cloudy sky was blur of pink and white and purple. In other circumstances, it would’ve been beautiful.

“It is,” Cordelia agreed and clasped her hands. She smiled. “I had hoped you two would come to me willingly. It would have made this less painful.”

“Why?” I demanded. Instinct screamed at me to stall. “What more do you need from us?”

“I don’t needyou,”Cordelia corrected. “I need your bond.”

I shuddered. The thing between Freya and me flared, and Cordelia’s smile broadened.

“These cuffs were specifically designed,” the High Witch explained, “so I could access your bond while keeping the two of you detained.”

My heart raced in my chest, but my magic remained out of reach. Though it flared and mingled with Freya’s power, it operated like its own beast. It was like the muscles and nerves that connected me to my power had been severed. Ihatedthe cold that crept over my skin and the fear that set my teeth on edge.

“Our bond?” Freya asked.

“Don’t play coy,” Cordelia chided. “I know you two are Anchors. Fret not, though, young witch. My spell will relieve you of that burden.”

As I met Freya’s gaze, fear marred her face, not relief. Something primal and intrinsic and full of rage took over.

“There was never a get-out-of-jail-free card,” I growled. “This was always the plan—to use us to feed your twisted spell to entomb Elle!”