Page 114 of A Kingdom of Wild and Power
And vanished.
She did not once look at her daughter.
The moment Mal reappeared within the wyverian keep, the world felt heavier.
Ash was at her side instantly, his hands gripping her arms as though afraid she might vanish again. His entire body trembled. Whether from fury or fear, she did not know. She was too exhausted to care.
She pushed him away.
In the centre of the main hall lay her mother’s body, draggedinside by Morthos. Mal did not allow herself to look at it. If she did, she might shatter completely.
‘I need to sleep,’ she said, her voice hollow as bone. ‘When I wake, we can burn my mother.’
‘You had no right.’ Ash’s voice was tight, pulled thin with restrained rage.
Mal had reached halfway up the stairs. Her pale hand clutched the railing; her back was rigid with grief so dense it felt carved into her spine.
‘She’s safe,’ Mal answered. ‘That’s all that matters.’
‘I wanted to hold her.’ His voice broke on the last word.
For a fleeting moment, something inside her cracked.
But she did not turn back.
She resumed her climb, step by step, ignoring the heat of his golden stare burning into her like a brand. Hate. There was hate in it now.
Hate directed ather.
‘You’ll have an entire lifetime with her, Ash,’ Mal replied, her tone brittle and dry.
And without another word, she vanished up the stairs, leaving behind a hall filled with death, grief, and a husband who probably now resented her.
Why are we always so against change?
Tabitha Wysteria
Alina found the witch in one of the bathhouses carved deep beneath the mountain, where steam clung to the stone like a living thing and voices echoed softly against the cavern walls. It was late afternoon, yet the pools were crowded, far more than Alina had expected. Dawn had always struck her as someone who preferred solitude in such moments.
Without ceremony, Alina stripped off her garments and left them folded upon a nearby rock. She slipped into the warm waters, the heat licking at her skin, and ignored the pointed look Dawn cast her way.
It was a strange thing, to know that the wyverian woman reclining against the stone was, in truth, a witch. Not merely any witch but the one who had altered the course of Alina’s very existence.
‘Why is it,’ Dawn drawled, leaning back against the heated rock, her damp hair trailing over her shoulder, ‘that every time I bathe, you appear? Are you secretly inlove with me?’
‘Do not flatter yourself,’ Alina replied, her voice sharp enough to cut through the steam. Her gaze drifted over the other women in the baths. She noted their movements, the way they watched without seeming to watch. Her eyes found the garments laid upon the surrounding rocks—half-moon shaped daggers tucked discreetly within the folds.
Dunayans.
‘We need to continue our training,’ Alina said quietly.
‘Here?’ Dawn arched a brow.
Alina shrugged, the water rippling around her shoulders. ‘We will find somewhere private. We are only remaining a few more days before we depart north, to wherever Saren has fled.’
The steam curled between them, thick with heat and unspoken tensions.
‘Do you think it’s true?’ Dawn asked quietly. At Alina’s faintly puzzled look, she clarified, ‘What Mareena said. About the gods.’
