Page 7 of Wicked Depths

And when they do, I’ll be the one deciding who truly owns this war.

Chapter

Three

NYXARA

The scent of charred wood and blood clings to the air, thick as the rage simmering in my veins. Varellith groans beneath my boots, the land’s magic thrumming weakly in response to the devastation the humans have wrought. The once-verdant forest—ancient and untouchable—now bears the scars of their fire and steel. Blackened stumps stand where towering trees once whispered with the wind. The soil is scorched, stripped of its life, the creatures I swore to protect driven deeper into the shadows, terrified and displaced.

The king did this.

He dares to take what is not his. To burn, to pillage, to claim dominion over a land that does not belong to him. A land that belongs to me.

I press my palm to the wounded earth, magic coiling in my veins. A faint green glow flickers at my fingertips as I channel energy into the ground, trying to soothe the land’s suffering. The forest’s magic stirs sluggishly, like a wounded beast reluctant to rise. It will take time to heal, time I no longer have.

A rustling sound draws my attention, the whisper of brittle leaves against scorched earth. From the remnants of a once-mighty oak, a dryad emerges—barely holding together.

Her form is fragile, her bark-like skin cracked and splintered, the deep brown of her body charred in places where the fire touched her. Golden sap seeps from the wounds like blood, dripping sluggishly to the ground. Her hair, once a cascade of emerald leaves, hangs in brittle, burned strands. Her limbs creak as she steps forward, her glowing amber eyes dull with pain.

"They are pushing deeper,"she rasps, her voice as brittle as wind through dead branches."More soldiers. More machines. More fire."

A growl rumbles in my chest, low and dark. The humans grow bolder. They break the ancient treaties as if they were nothing more than forgotten words on parchment. My hands clench into fists, my claws digging into my palms.

"How many?" I demand.

The dryad sways slightly, barely holding herself upright. "Too many." A pause. "And they do not fear the magic of this land as they once did. They carry weapons that bite through the roots, machines that tear through the trees. They carve roads into the forest, not caring what they destroy in the process."

My rage simmers hotter.

They are claiming the land as if it belongs to them. As if they have already won.

"They seek to take what is mine," I murmur, voice cold as the wind that moves through the blackened trees.

The dryad nods weakly. "The king… he marches with purpose. He seeks something beyond conquest. There is intent behind his war. A hunger for more than land."

The realization slams into me like a sudden storm.

Vaela.

The king never intended to simply pillage and burn pieces of my forest. No, he means to destroy it all. To tear every root from the earth, to wipe out every creature that calls this land home, to reduce Varellith to nothing but smoldering ash and lifeless ruin.But he cannot do it alone. No mortal—king or not—would stand a chance againstme.Not without power. Power he could gain from the Sea Witch.

My lips curl in a slow, wicked smile.

But now, I have her. And just as he sought to use her to take my realm, I will use her to destroy him and his army before they ever touch what is mine again.

"Go back to the others," I command the dryad, my voice like iron. "Tell them to retreat into the deeper groves. Tell them I will handle the humans."

The dryad hesitates. "And if they come again?"

I lift my gaze toward the distant horizon where the smoke of burning wood still lingers.

"Then we will bury them in the roots of this land."

She bows her head—with what little strength she has left—and fades back into the remains of her dying tree.

I rise, the folds of my black cloak swirling around me. Vaela is the missing piece in this game. She is the key toallof it. With one last glance at the ruins of my forest, I turn and step into the shadows. The magic bends around me, pulling me through the dense wilds at unnatural speed. It carries me straight to my castle. And straight to my prisoner.

To my weapon.

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