mythean arcana 07 - witchs fate Read online

  Contents

  TITLE PAGE

  DEDICATION

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  EPILOGUE

  THANK YOU!

  BRAVING FATE EXCERPT

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  GLOSSARY

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  ABOUT LINSEY

  COPYRIGHT

  WITCH’S FATE

  Linsey Hall

  DEDICATION

  For Veronica Morris, an amazing friend and person. I’m so glad we found each other!

  PROLOGUE

  Warlock’s Apprenticeship, Corrier’s Home

  Norway

  1606 AD

  “Oh my gods, you must be jesting.” Sofia Viera gripped the armrests of the chair as her heart plummeted into her stomach. Kitty, her feline familiar, pressed against her calves, trying to comfort her. It didn’t work.

  “I’m afraid I am not.” Corrier’s voice was grave. Her mentor’s white hair was wild as usual, his robes dusty. “You’ve done very well in the warlock’s apprenticeship—many don’t make it this far. But to complete the transition to warlock, you must become an Oath Breaker.”

  “Oath Breaker,” she whispered. A person bound by fate to break any oath or promise they made. A rare curse. Corrier had taught them about Oath Breakers, but he’d never said that warlocks were Oath Breakers. To become one…

  It would ruin her life. Every promise, every commitment she made would be destroyed—fate and magic would conspire to break them. It was strange, dark magic, but it was infallible. And an Oath Breaker could never love, because love itself was a commitment.

  No love. No Malcolm. Her throat tightened unbearably and her hands trembled. She forced down the ragged sob at the thought of all she would lose.

  “But why?” she bit out. Her panicked mind scrambled for a way around this. She needed a warlock’s power to break the curse on her village. But if she became an Oath Breaker, she would lose Malcolm.

  “A warlock’s power is great. Near that of a god’s. That kind of ability comes at a steep price. You’re a powerful witch. Excuse me, Bruxa,” he corrected himself, using the Portuguese title that her species of witch preferred. “It’s what qualified you for this apprenticeship. But to become a warlock and reach your full potential, you must pay a great price to obtain great magic. Break your most important vow. Become an Oath Breaker.”

  She could see the terrible progression so clearly—and the havoc it would wreak on her life. “Why did you not tell me sooner?” she whispered. It seemed like an awful trick.

  “It’s a warlock’s greatest secret. If others knew we were Oath Breakers… That’s a terrible weakness. Apprentices are only told once they have become qualified to transition. We guard the secret well.”

  She swallowed hard. Of course. By their very nature, warlocks were shrouded in secrecy.

  “Does Malcolm know?” she asked. Her heart pounded as a chill spread over her skin.

  Corrier frowned. “I haven’t told him because I haven’t had to. His people are sorcerers. Dedicated to this path. He’s known the price since he was a child.”

  Horror rose in Sofia’s chest, a dark substance that threatened to strangle her from within. She shook her head. “No. No, he couldn’t have.”

  The first bit of sympathy entered Corrier’s eyes. “You’ve become close to him, Sofia. I’m sure he’s told you about his people.”

  Tears burned at her eyes and she blinked them back frantically. Become close to him? Over the last six months, he’d become her world. They’d shared everything. Or so she’d thought. He’d mentioned his people, a small clan of sorcerers in Southern England who were dedicated to this path, but he’d never mentioned becoming an Oath Breaker. Oath Breaker’s couldn’t love. If they did, only tragedy would ensue.

  “You understand that you must end whatever is between you when you transition.” Corrier’s voice was firm. “You remember Laira.”

  At the mention of her friend, horrified realization stole Sofia’s breath. Laira had transitioned to warlock two months ago. She’d left the apprenticeship with Oliver, the man she loved and another warlock. Just last week, Corrier had told Sofia of Laira’s death in a battle in the south.

  “No.” Sofia shook her head. “Her death was an accident. It had to be. It’s not because she was an Oath Breaker.”

  Corrier nodded gravely. “An accident ensured by fate. I couldn’t tell you the details before because you couldn’t be allowed to know of the connection between warlocks and Oath Breakers. But after she transitioned to warlock, she didn’t part with Oliver as she should have. So fate intervened. Oliver was fighting for his people in a battle in Turkey. He mistakenly turned her over to the enemy. It was fate’s way of ensuring they broke their oath of love to one another.”

  “I cannot continue the apprenticeship.” She couldn’t believe the words were leaving her mouth. She’d worked so hard for this. But it was clear to her.

  “For Malcolm? You know that he might not make the same choice.”

  “He will.” He had to. Panic threatened to strangle her. She rose from her chair, nearly shaking. “I’m sorry, Corrier, but I—I must go.”

  She whirled and ran from the room, Kitty on her heels. The stone-walled corridor of Corrier’s large home flashed by and she sped down the hall. She had to find Malcolm. He couldn’t have known this. He’d fallen in love with her too. These had been the best months of her life. It couldn’t all be falling apart now.

  She raced up the stairs and down the hall to Malcolm’s room, then pounded on the door. Her little black cat scratched at the door, mirroring her distress.

  No answer.

  Outside. He had to be outside.

  Without stopping for her cloak, she ran out into the cold Norwegian winter, followed by Kitty. She didn’t even feel the chill as her feet sank into the snow. Normally, she’d be miserable. Her thin Brazilian blood couldn’t take this cold. But now, fear and panic supplanted everything else.

  She found him at the frozen waterfall where he practiced his magic. The chill wind whipped his dark hair back from his face as he threw a jet of flame at the ice, melting it.

  The sight of him, so tall and handsome, draped in his black cloak, calmed her. Love swelled in her chest. This wasn’t true. He didn’t know about becoming an Oath Breaker. He hadn’t lied to her all this time. He would choose her over magic. Of course he would.

  He turned, clearly alerted by her harsh breathing. Concern swept across his beautiful face. The sharp lines, full lips, and golden eyes had become so familiar to her. Beloved.

  “Sofia. Are you unwell?” His British accent reminded her of how different he was from her. But that was all right. He would make the same choice she would.

  He strode to her and gripped her shoulders in his big hands. He loomed over her, nearly a foot taller than her own five and a half feet.

  “I—I heard something terrible.” She sucked in a ragged breath.

  He swept his thumb over her cheek and only then did she notice that tears were pouring down her face. She glanced down, trying to get he
rself together, and caught sight of Kitty, who stared at Malcolm suspiciously. Her squinty eye narrowed even more than usual.

  The sight of Kitty’s suspicion sent a streak of fear through her. Kitty normally liked Malcolm. Did her familiar sense the truth? That he’d always known?

  “What is it?” His deep voice was rough with concern.

  “Oath Breakers.” The words tumbled over her tongue as she looked up to search his face. “Corrier told me we’re supposed to become Oath Breakers to complete the transition to warlock.”

  His brow creased, but it was the understanding in his eyes that sent a chill through her. He wasn’t surprised or confused or upset.

  “You knew,” she whispered, her voice strangled. “You’ve always known.”

  He nodded and her heart felt like it would break her ribs. “You say you love me. Yet you didn’t tell me about this? You’ve continued with the apprenticeship. You know that we can’t become warlocks and stay together, so why continue?” Fear clawed at her, tearing at her heart.

  There was no reason to continue if he knew what awaited him. If he’d chosen her, he’d have already quit.

  “Of course I love you,” he said. The intensity of emotion in his golden gaze calmed her fear a bit.

  He did love her. Of course. He’d told her so for the first time in this very place. She wanted to believe it so badly that she clung to his words, though her fear remained.

  “But I have to become a warlock,” he said. “You know that.”

  She stumbled back, out of his embrace. The cold finally hit her, both inside and out. “You can’t. You know that if you become one, there’s no hope for us.”

  As soon as Corrier had told her what she must to do to complete her transition, she’d known she could never become a warlock. She couldn’t give up Malcolm.

  “We can make this work.” He reached for her, but she stepped back.

  Horrified laughter welled in her breast. “You’re jesting. You know that’s not possible. Corrier told us what happens to Oath Breakers. Love is an oath. Fate will intervene. And Laira?” Her voice rose in panic. “Corrier just told me how she died. That Oliver turned her over in battle. A mistake. One that fate engineered.”

  “He was stupid. Weak. I wouldn’t do that.”

  She shook her head frantically. He was so stubborn. “Oliver wasn’t stupid. Don’t you see? You won’t have any control. Or I might be the one to do something that destroys you. We cannot control it. You know how powerful fate is. If you love me, you’ll abandon the apprenticeship with me. You promised we would be together. Right here, at this waterfall. You promised.” Her voice broke. She wanted to grab him, shake him.

  “And we will. Become a warlock. We’re smart enough to avoid what fate has planned.”

  “Can you hear yourself? Avoid fate?” He was delusional. He wanted the power of a warlock so badly that he thought he could avoid fate? All Mytheans knew that was impossible. Mortals might not understand, but they also didn’t realize that their myths were real. They didn’t know that fate was an infallible power. But Sofia knew.

  “You need to become a warlock, Sofia. Your village needs you. With the power of the aether, you can break the curse upon your village. Free yourself from being Protector.”

  A rush of desire swept through her at his words. It’s what she’d wanted all along—the reason she’d sought out the apprenticeship. Upon her mother’s death, she was expected to take on the role of Protector of Bruxa’s Eye. She loved her village at the edge of the Amazon River and would dedicate her life to protecting it from the High Witches’ curse.

  Unlike most Mytheans, warlocks were made, not born. Most Mytheans took their magical power from the aether, that ephemeral substance connecting earth and their afterworlds. Their immortal souls absorbed the aether power like a sponge and they used it to fuel their magic. But, like a sponge, there was a limited capacity and then a Mythean had to wait to reabsorb more power. But a warlock could open a channel to the aether and fill up on nearly unlimited power.

  “But not at this cost,” Sofia said. “I love you, Malcolm. I love my village. Becoming an Oath Breaker would mean leaving you. Maybe even my village, too. I cannot do that. I will not! And if you love me, you will not either. It’s not worth it.”

  The cold determination in his eyes sent a chill across her skin. Fear and loss threatened to overwhelm her, a cold force dragging her down. She was losing this battle. It was clear in his eyes. Sorcerers were cold, determined. His clan in particular. It was in his blood to do this.

  But he was part wulver as well. His father’s people, from northern Scotland, were wolf shifters. They were loyal and believed in the importance of bonds, of family. Of love. It’s why she’d been able to overlook the coldness of his sorcerer side. But she’d never seen him turn into a wolf, nor had he mentioned it. Perhaps the fact that he was a half-blood meant that he couldn’t. And perhaps too, he didn’t feel emotion as strongly as his kin.

  “I have to become a warlock, Sofia.” His voice was hard. “I love you. But I have to do this.”

  “Why?” Her chest ached with loss.

  “Because becoming a warlock is the greatest thing I can accomplish.”

  Pain hit her. “The greatest thing? Love is the greatest thing.”

  “We can have that too.”

  Something snapped inside of her and she screamed, “We can’t! You know it. You’ve heard the stories. Our friend was struck low by the Oath Breaker’s curse. Oath Breakers cannot love.” She sucked in a ragged breath. “You can become a warlock, or you can have me. But you cannot have both.”

  “You’re wrong, Sofia.”

  She drew her wand and shot a bolt of lightning at him. He deflected it with his hand and it hit a tree, felling it. His face hardened and her heart felt like it cracked at the sight of his beloved features twisted in anger at her. The bolt wouldn’t have killed him, but she wanted to make him hurt as she was hurting.

  She tried to harden her voice. “Those are my terms. You made a vow to me that we’d be together forever. If you break it, you’re on the path to becoming an Oath Breaker. It’s me or becoming a warlock.”

  “You would give me an ultimatum?” Shock and anger played across his features. Understanding dawned. “You will leave me if I become a warlock.”

  She nodded sharply, unable to open her mouth for fear that a sob would burst forth.

  “You know what I choose,” he said, his voice cold.

  She nearly fell to her knees. The earth seemed to tilt on its axis. What had just happened? Had she really just lost everything?

  She turned and ran.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Glencoe Mountains, Scottish Highlands

  Present Day

  Sofia stared at the exterior of Malcolm’s enormous castle, unable to believe she was here. For over four hundred years, she’d stuck by her vow to never see him again.

  Yet she was now standing on top of a mountain in front of his home, a sweeping vista of snow-sprinkled peaks and valleys stretching into the distance before her. Moonlight gleamed off every white surface.

  Rage banished any chill she felt from the cold. It burned away the painful memories of their parting, memories that had torn at her insides for years.

  “That bastard had better still have the Demon Blade,” she said to Kitty. She’d used all her magic and the strongest spells she could find and he’d still broken in and stolen it. He’d been cocky enough to leave her a message in the chest where the blade had been locked. In her own home. Come to me.

  Kitty hissed.

  Harsh wind whipped across her cheeks as she stomped toward the huge front doors. Kitty led the way, her round little body stalking across the snow as if she too meant to make Malcolm pay for stealing the dagger. Sofia would see to it he did.

  His home loomed before her, enormous. She scowled. Not only was he an immensely powerful warlock, he was now insanely wealthy, if the size of his home was any indication. But if he had the obscene
amount of money it would take to own this place, why the hell was he stealing from her? Why was he back in her life at all? He was the one who’d destroyed what they had.

  She shook the painful thought away and glared at his house. It was not a typical castle, made of great, ugly blocks with only a few narrow windows. No, this one was both stark and beautiful. Gray stone towers rose from the mountain and glass glowed with warm light. There was no exterior defense wall. There’d be no need, of course. Not with his power. Despite its beauty, it was somehow desolate. As if the person who lived within were as cold and dark as the night surrounding it.

  But then, Malcolm was dark and cold and she knew it better than anyone.

  She climbed the wide steps and raised her hand to pound on the door.

  “Screw it.” She lowered her fist and pushed against the door, sending a jolt of power blasting through his protection charm and forcing the door open. It smashed against the inside wall. He might be ridiculously powerful and wealthy, but she was no slouch herself.

  And she was just pissed enough that she wanted to bust into his house and break a few things. Like his head.

  She stepped through the now wide open door and took in the rich wood paneling and priceless art covering the high walls of the entry. A huge staircase swept up to the right and a large archway on the left led to a wide hallway. The sheer beauty of the interior was so great that it quashed her previous desire to break things.

  Her skin prickled when she looked toward the hallway to the left, so she set off that way. She could almost feel herself being drawn to him. How was it possible after so many years?

  Kitty stayed close by her side as she stomped down the hall, her footsteps thudding on the gleaming wooden floor as she made her way past closed doors. A glow emitted from the one at the end of the hall, the light within so bright it shined out from between the cracks at the edges. It beckoned her in the best and worst way.