Page 16 of Kingdom of the Two Moons

Or she could have killed Caryan once he was freed and still weak before the magic merged with his own.

But she did none of those things.

Because deep down, she feared her aunt and craved her praise.

Because she fell so hard for Caryan. Then she fell so hard.

Traitor. Traitor. Traitor,that ugly inner voice keeps hissing.She failed her mothers so unforgivably. Failed the witches. Failed her black coven.She could never atone, only try to protect them.

If they knew, Blair, they would abandon you. Curse the day you were born,the callous voice continues. The voice that keeps haunting every waking and dreaming minute.

Fucking useless voice.

But they must not know!No one, ever,Blair shoots back. Because the truth would harm Aurora and Sofya. And whether they love her or not, Blair will do everything to keep them safe. Anything. If she has to die for them, she will do so without a moment’s hesitation.

So she’s got to play along because silence makes you look weak. And weakness gets you killed.

“And that makes me complicit?” Blair asks in a voice she knows makes people want to throttle her. She juts up her chin, looking down her nose at Perenilla, just as her aunt had taught her to.

As an answer, Perenilla nods to Illistra, the current wing leader of the black coven and one of Perenilla’s thirty-three. An ugly witch with short-trimmed hair. A woman in the body of an ogre and with the brain matter of a squirrel, but it’s Illistra’s physical strength that is unmatched among the witches. No one challenges Illistra in hand-to-hand combat.

The hag steps forward with a grin and rips the bloody whip out of Sofya’s hand.

Then she shoves Sofya aside like a curtain. Sofya stumbles.

A vicious snarl escapes her mother’s lips. “I’ll claw your eyes out, Illistra,” Sofya growls, her clawed hand curled.

But other witches hold her mother back before Sofya can launch herself at her.

“It is a pleasure to finally punish the rabble,” Illistra drawls to Blair, her small, mean eyes glittering with ancient bloodlust.

There is no warning before the whip cracks through the air.

Blair raises her arm to block the most severe damage. The lash is merciless though. It cuts open Blair’s arm and splits part of her right hip, the iron digging in so close to the bone that Blair grits her teeth to keep herself from screaming out.

Illistra’s grin only widens as she swings the whip again.

This time, Blair reaches out and catches the tip midair. The delicate skin of her palm splits in half as the arrow-shaped end pierces it. Blair forces her fist to close around it, ignoring the pain as the iron tip bites deeper into her flesh.

“Don’t you dare whip me, witch, or I’ll peel your skin off and eat the strips,” Blair barks, as she yanks the whip towards her with enough force to send Illistra stumbling.

“Oh, that I want to see, Blair,” Illistra answers with a matching snarl and a brutal yank back. One that brings Blair closer, just as Blair estimated.

She doesn’t hesitate. She charges. She moves around Illistra, wrapping the whip around her massive neck, once, twice, before Illistra can do so much as blink.

Blair, still holding the whip’s end, places one booted foot in Illistra’s back for more leverage. Then she pulls. The straps go tight.

Illistra coughs, her face turning into a ripe shade of red.

“Want to see what, Illistra? How I cut off your ugly head with some leather strip?” Blair hisses at her ear. Then she pulls even tighter. The leather of the leash starts to cut into Illistra’s flesh.

Illistra reflexively drops her end of the whip and Blair grabs it. Now, with both ends in her hands, she pulls the strapsreallytight.

Illistra’s face contorts in pain, a soundless howl escapes her throat before she falls to her knees, blood running down her neck in rivulets.

The crowd has fallen utterly silent. For a moment, even the howling wind seems to halt and watch.

Perenilla stands again, her face frozen by cold rage, but her grayish eyes glisten dangerously. “Enough. Let her go.”

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