Page 70 of Heavy is the Crown
For those who are not channeling, they must have a partner to help them.
– Priestess Codex
Ava
(“How Villains Are Made” – Madalen Duke)
Slowly, consciousness begins to take hold of my hazy brain, and I blink open heavy lids to see the canopy of my bed above me. I try to push up, but my body is having a difficult time responding. It feels heavy and sluggish. Almost as if I have strings attached to each limb, and they are pulled taut around me. Unease creeps through me. Once I’m finally seated and my head stops spinning, I look down at my body. No longer in the clothing I passed out in, I find my breasts are banded with white cloth and my legs are covered with a similar white cloth. I feelaround my neck and meet the thick band of that golden collar, the cool metal smooth against my fingertips. The leash . . . I follow it with my eyes and see the end of it is now tethered to the bedpost.
“What the fuck?” I murmur. I move to get up, but my body still feels too heavy, still feels attached to something else I’m not seeing. As if I’m trying to push through water while the tide is trying to drag me out.
“Ah, you're awake. Finally.” The dark voice comes from my left as the large door swings open.
Oisin saunters into the room, a smile across his face and his one red eye gleaming. His long hair is slicked back, exposing the jagged scar through his eye. Despite all that, he is still objectively beautiful. Behind him, Harrow follows, her head bowed low, eyes focused on the carpet. Cordelia Fairmore comes in last, her body clearly rotting and hanging on by a thread. Her skin is mottled and gray, her once fine hair hanging in wisps around her scalp.
Instinct has me moving to stand, but my body still won’t work, and my vision swims, making me slouch back down against the pillows behind me.
Oisin comes to a stop in front of the bed. “Ah, yes, the drugs might still be in your system. I did tell Cordelia not to overdo it, but . . .” He shrugs. “She doesn’t always mind. You should be fine by this evening.”
“What have you done to me?” I growl. “You drug and chain up your fiancée? I came to you willingly, and this is how you treat me?”
He keeps his hands in his pockets, smiling at me. “I was truly hoping you would come to me willingly. But your mother knows you best and doesn’t seem to think you’re here with altruistic intentions.”
Stepping forward, he unchains the leash from the bed. The minute his hand touches it, my body responds, as if I have no control over what I’m doing, and that collar tightens around my throat. His lips pull up into a smile, the scar through his eye looking brutal in this light. My magic roars to the surface, toward him, along with the remnants of Drago’s and Shadow’s magic. His eyes roll back in his head, pleasure seeming to swim over his body.
“What the fuck is this?” Dread pools in my belly.
He plays with the chain in his hand before wrapping it around his fist. “It’s truly remarkable, really. This little piece of jewelry will allow me to control you, including how you use your magic. The Mori grimoire offers so many fun little spells, this one in particular. So, you see, I don’t need you willing. In fact,” he adds wickedly, leaning down close, “I would rather you weren’t. It’s my magic now.”
I command my body to rebel, to fight, but he continues to pull from me undisturbed. “The wine. You drugged it with this magic. It activated the collar,” I say as it all clicks into place.
My body goes cold, like all my blood has turned to ice water.This is bad. This is really fucking bad.
“Fuck, your magic feels good,” he pants. I can see it now, shimmering around him in a red haze. His pupils are blown wide, and he bites down on his lower lip as his gaze travels over me. “Oh, Ava, we are going to have so much fun together.”
“They’ll stop you,” I wheeze as my body weakens. “They won’t let you open the gates.”
He lets out a laugh, yanking me into his body. “While I would love Gothic Grove, that was merely a distraction. Keep my brother and his pesky witch occupied while I go in search of what I truly want. What you’ll help me find.”
The reality of the situation guts me as I understand just how fucked I truly am.
“The Well,” I whisper, eyes widening. “You're after the Well.”
His grin widens. “Ah, you finally understand. With you, I’ll have the magic to access it. And with your dragons, I’ll have the means to keep away anyone who would want to stop me.”
He drags his nose up my cheek, and I cringe inwardly, his touch burning. “They won’t help you. They’ll kill you.”
“They’ll help me because you’ll ask them to. You’ll demand they help your new husband. Demand that if they wish to stay with you, they’ll bow to me. Serve me.”
A low growl rumbles through my chest. “They’ll know I’m not here willingly. You may have my magic, but they’ll fucking know.”
He lets out a laugh, pulling on the leash again, and my body responds. I have no control. “I think you’ll find the performance very convincing.” When he presses his lips against my own, I can’t help but respond, my body betraying me to whatever magic is within this fucking collar.
FORTY
While most priestesses are simply witches, every few generations, there is one born who is more powerful.
– Priestess Codex
