Page 2 of The Fated and the Damned
Yaga grinned with pointed teeth, seeming to catch on to my thoughts. “It will be difficult. The councillors know now the banya was a ruse, and they will have strengthened their defences.” She pursed her lips, pacing slowly. “I’ll need to consult the tomes, but, yes … I believe it’s possible.”
I padded towards Yaga on bare feet, my gown swishing through the bloodstained stones. “Your sensitivities put us in this mess.” I clicked my tongue, my voice turning brittle. “Sentimentality has no place in this cult. You were sloppy, involving your son in my affairs.”
My power trailed from my palms in misty red waves, snaking around Yaga’s shoulders. I ran a nail down her arm, and she shivered at the touch, baring her throat to me in submission, her frame trembling with fear. Yet something like lust gleamed in her eyes, whether at me or in recognition of my power, I couldn’t be sure.
Demons below, she was a stunning creature. One I might consider worthy of being my consort. But there was one other I had my eye on. One with great potential—power even he didn’t know the limits of. And what a match we could make.
I smiled and pressed a kiss to Yaga’s mouth. She parted her lips as I swept my tongue in, a breathy sigh leaving her as I deepened the kiss until it was bruising. I sank my recently filed fangs into her lips, drawing blood which I consumed greedily. She moaned, arching into my touch, sweeping my long black hair over a shoulder.
She tasted like dark magic and black hell, the promise of power swelling in that blood. Powerful, but not nearly enough. I pulled away sharply, wiping my bloodied lips and sucking what remained off my finger, my hand tightening around her throat.
Her eyes widened, the flesh around her throat reddening until I let her go and she gasped, bending double. “See that the wards are destroyed. There’s something I’d like to send to the witches. A gift from their true queen to her people.”
Yaga bowed, her shock replaced with a dutiful nod. “It shall be done.”
“And Yaga,” I said dangerously low, “do not disappoint me again, or it will be your blood I feed on.”
She bared her teeth and hissed but was wise enough not to challenge me. “My queen,” she said simply before turning on her heel and storming away.
I smiled as I sauntered lazily to the arched window, gazing at the treetops and the city I knew lay beyond. With my power restored, the witches and their táltosok bodyguards wouldn’t stand a chance.
Soon Mistvellen, the Kingdom, and the world beyond, would be mine.
PART ONE
The Curse of Consequence
ONE
Kitarni
Redsplatteredinacrimson arc as my blade bit into pale flesh. One smooth slice and my opponent’s lifeblood drained away, his throat torn open. The mess of battle never bothered me. I was a blood witch, after all.
A war song pounded in my blood, spurring my instincts as I moved quickly, purposefully.
These were my enemies, my prey, and I would spare them no quarter. I bumped into a solid wall and spun, a snarl on my lips as I came face to face with Dante. His eyes were dark murder, the gold ring flaring brightly in the dark.
He said nothing, did nothing but turn away and fillet his next victim. I ignored him—trying not to dwell on the absence of emotion on his face—joining András’s side as three cultists closed ranks, trapping him against a thick, scarred tree trunk. Around us, the forest dripped with black, stinking of rot and ruin and the iron tang of fresh blood.
A roar escaped my lips as I charged, sliding beneath a clumsy swipe by one man and gutting him in a flash of silver. I refused to acknowledge the glimpse of pink spilling from his stomach, moving on to square off with a man with sewed lips and eyes with pupils so dilated they were almost black. High on bloodmorphia, no doubt. The angry red line of his mouth looked infected, bubbling with yellow and pus-filled sores.
I grimaced, focusing instead on his movements, the amateur stance, and the white-knuckled grip on his axe. He moved, and I feigned to the left, changing direction at the last second to rotate and ram my blade into his chest.
Pained sounds answered, muffled and distorted from beneath his infected lips. What were they even trying to prove with such stupid ceremonies anyway? Was it some sort of sadistic punishment? I grunted as I pulled my blade out. Another fanatic felled. One less monster to defend against. I set my jaw, huffing a stray curl from my face.
András, having dispatched his attacker swiftly, studied me for a beat too long. “Someone’s in a mood today.”
I smiled sweetly, belying my frustration at a certain broody, towering wall of muscle looming nearby whom didn’t deserve any space in my already muddled mind. “Just doing my duty.”
András’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the trail of bodies in my wake and mumbled, “If that’s what you want to call it.”
I looked at him coolly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“A discussion for another time,” he answered with a frown.
Planting a hand on my hip, I pinned him in my stare.
“I—”
