Chapter 248 - 'Us' And 'I'
Knots formed in Anastasia's stomach as horror seeped in her veins. "Wh— what do you mean?"
"The pills were given to suppress your magic, but you were too powerful, Ana. Normal chains could never bind and Maple wanted to whip you for all your punishments." She cackled again, tapping her nose. "Poor Maple. She did all that I asked her to do. I was the one who gave her these special chains to bind you, so that she could whip you. Your blood—" she smacked her lips. "I loved the scent of your blood the day I saw you first."
Anastasia shuddered. "When did you see me first?"
The witch looked at her with her obsidian, gloomy eyes. Ignoring her question, she said, "Your taste is full of power, fae princess." Her voice was like many people speaking over a gravely path. "Ancient blood mixed with cold winds and fresh pure snow."
Gods.
"You have the blood of ancestors. For everyone in the Lore, you are like a deity... a goddess… the most powerful being." She pointed at the pile of bones on her left and continued, "Do you know who these people are and how did they die?" She floated at the opposite corner of the prison and bobbled in the air.
Anastasia whipped her head to her left at the pile of bones that were stacked over each other—some chewed, some not.
"They are werewolves, witches and wizards and other species across the Lore including faes." She let out a cold cackle. "All those faes that were called fallen—they ended up here… well mostly. Some managed to escape before I could catch them. Those who were captured were chained in a similar manner. Over the years, they grew weak because of hunger and then they died. I gave instant deaths to those whose blood tasted power, but let the rest rot…" Her dark eyes showed a flicker of excitement before going back to the gloom.
Over years? Oh, gods. Anastasia's breath lodged in the throat as her chest tightened. There was something very sinister going on.
"Do you want to know why I have brought you here and why I want to kill you? Instantly?" asked the vile witch. She removed a piece of flesh between her pointy teeth.
The act was disgusting, but enough for fear to run down Anastasia's spine. Whose flesh was that? And yes, she wanted to know it… desperately. She stared at the witch to speak further.
"You were a threat to my plans," the witch said coldly. "But more than that I want to sacrifice you. Sacrificing you to the dark lords is going to give me power to rule the world. No, it is going to give us powers to rule the world." Her white hair curled and rose up in the air. "If you think that it was Etaya who was doing it all, then you are wrong."
"What?" Anastasia was shocked.
The witch giggled. "I can't deny that I love the look of shock on your face. It suits you. But you what? The look of fear would suit you better." Her voice sounded as if she whispered right next to her ears. The chains on Anastasia's hands tightened to the extent that she screamed with agony, and then suddenly loosened.
The witch floated towards the bars and they moved to the side accommodating her travel. As soon as she was on the other side, the iron rods came back in place—firm and steady. Her shadowy figure loomed on the outside.
"Etaya wants to rule the Fae Kingdom, and we want to rule the Lore. So, I gave her what she wanted and in return, I asked her to give you to me. Believe me, she was so generous in agreeing to my demands." The witch went further away from the bars into the darkness and let out a sigh of relief. "Ah, the darkness soothes my body," she said in a relaxed voice. "That candle light was like fire to me."
She became quiet and Anastasia waited for her with anticipation. Her mind was a mess with questions bouncing around. This couldn't be true. How old was the witch? Did she know Etaya from the beginning? When she had traveled in time, she had seen Etaya hatching the plans to take over the Fae Kingdom.
All of a sudden there was a burst of cold wind and the witch came to stand right in front of the iron bars. She clutched them hard and bared her teeth. Her hair was streaming behind her. "But it was not always like this!" she growled. "Etaya is a vicious woman. She threw me to the darkness for her plans. I hate herrrrr!" Her voice came as if from deep inside. The next moment her demeanor changed. "Not that we mind it," she cackled again in the same sickening way.
"Who are you?" asked Anastasia. She was trying to put the puzzle pieces together. Sometimes the witch used 'us', and other times 'I'. She appeared disembodied for a few seconds and then back in the present. "At least give me your name" She spoke past the lump that was forming in her throat. "And are you going to kill me now?"
The witch clicked her nails against her pointy teeth and kind of evaluated her. "I might." She stared at her in a predatory way that made Anastasia recoil. She spat on the floor, her black saliva sending a plume of smoke in the air. She turned back to return to the darkness. "Compelled… compelled…"
"Who is compelling you?" Anastasia shouted to call her back. She wanted the witch to talk. And the witch obliged her. She floated right back in the cellar, through the bars and came to kneel right in front of her with her fangs and pointy teeth bare. She growled like an animal, her eyes full of hatred.
Anastasia swallowed her saliva down. "I am not a threat. I can help you…"
"You are a threat to us. You can kill so many people with a snap of your fingers, with your crazy magic. I saw the way you fought up in the gardens of his mansion."
"You attacked us… for no reason," Anastasia snarled. "I will protect what is mine." Her voice cracked. "My husband, my—"
"Your mate?" She completed the sentence. "Mates are rare in the Lore." The witch rose up as she continued to glare at her. Then she turned in the air and floated back to the far corner, away from the candle light. "Once the mates mate, their bond snaps in and it makes them even more powerful. Look at Adrianna and Dmitri. Look at you and Ileus." She clicked her nails in anxiety. "Mates are dangerous. I hate them. They desert you..." Her voice trailed. "They will kill for each other and also follow each other to death. Not even death can separate them." She tilted her head to one side and her chapped lips tugged up. "In this prison, can you feel the bond? Because he is dead now. Don't you want to join him in his death?"
Anastasia had to use deceit to weaken the witch's resolve. In the time she studied the witch, she was sure of one thing—the witch must have been Draoidh's resident. She was a dark soul, fed by her arrogance and delusion to rule the Lore. "Of course, I feel the bond," she snarled.