Page 43 of A Kingdom of Wild and Power
Arden surged forward, instinct overriding reason and Ylva moved with him, terror clawing at her chest at the thought of harm coming to him. But the witch noticed. She clicked her fingers.
The world locked.
Ylva and Arden were frozen mid-step, trapped in place, unable to so much as breathe properly.
‘Don’t be so impatient,’ the witch chided softly, clicking her tongue. Though Ylva was quite uncertain if the woman in front of her was truly a witch. She had mentioned having godly powers…Could it be? Could this woman be a goddess?
The witch gestured lazily towards the Fae as their bodies broke further beneath the crushing grip of shadow. The darkness crept around their heads, and Ylva’s eyes widened in horror as Elric’s skull imploded. Then, mere heartbeats later, Nymeria’s followed, bursting apart as fragments of bone and brain scattered across the white ground.
Ylva tried to scream.
Her body would not obey.
The giant white wolf leapt to defend them, fury and loyalty driving it forward, but the witch’s magic caught its leg mid-air, wrenching it down with brutal force. Ylva screamed within herself as the wolf crashed to the ground, its limbs shattering as it whimpered and shrieked in agony.
The witch snapped her fingers once more.
And the wolf fell silent.
She turned towards them, those purple eyes settling on the winged horse. Ylva tried to scream, tried to beg her beast to run, to flee while it still could, but no sound left her throat. The horse did not move. It stayed by her side, wings half-spread, its body angled protectively in front of her as though it might somehow shield her from a god’s wrath.
The witch approached Ylva slowly, deliberately, until her face was mere inches away. Her gaze lifted, fixing on the trembling creature beside her.
‘Pity…’ the witch murmured.
Darkness bloomed once more from her hands, surging forward to seize the horse’s wings. ‘Not much use,’ she added idly, ‘if it cannot fly…’
Ylva watched in helpless horror as the magic tore through flesh and bone, ripping the wings apart with brutal finality. Her poor beast collapsed into the snow, its body wracked with pain until the suffering consumed it entirely. The witch laughed, the sound sharp and delighted, her features twisted with the joy of cruelty.
Ylva did not dare look at Arden. She did not need to. She could feel his anguish as keenly as her own because it was the echo of a heart breaking, mirrored perfectly in her chest.
The witch snapped her fingers.
The spell shattered.
Ylva crumpled forward onto her knees, the numbness vanishing all at once as grief tore through her. Tears streamed down her face as a raw, broken wail ripped from her throat at the sight of her fallen horse, the shattered wolf, and the two Fae whose bodies had been destroyed so completely there was scarcely anything left to mourn.
The forest stood silent around them.
The witch dropped to the ground before her, fingers snapping around Ylva’s jaw and forcing her head up.
‘Why?’ Ylva sobbed, the word torn from her chest.
The witch laughed, bright and cruel. ‘Why not?’
‘But you’re a goddess, are you not? The gods are meant to protect us.’
The witch—or goddess, for Ylva was now uncertain of what to call her—cackled. ‘What a silly lie you mortals decided to come up with. What makes you think gods are not evil? That we do not wish you harm?’
Ylva fought the urge to look towards Arden, still frozen where the magic had left him, as though pretending he did not exist might spare him. As though, if she ignored him hard enough, the witch might forget him too. Perhaps she could still save him. Perhaps…
‘I’ve always wanted a pet,’ the witch said softly, her grip tightening on Ylva’s jaw.
Ylva barely felt the pain. Not after what she had witnessed. Not after the blood-soaked snow, the broken bodies, the silence left behind.
The witch rose, hauling Ylva upright with her. In an instant, glowing chains snapped into place around Ylva’s wrists. She struggled against them, panic surging.
‘Stop it,’ the witch hissed, irritation creeping into her voice.
