Ares was nowhere to be found when I woke up. I hadn’t sensed him coming in after our unfortunate episode, so I didn’t know if he slept in the room, but then I’d almost passed out in the end after such a crappy day.

After I took time showering and shampooing my hair, I found a new set of clothing and a pair of boots in the closet. They were just my size. Beside the fine clothes were velvet gloves, which was a nice variety to my leather ones.

The clothes had to be from the druid. Ares didn’t have a considerate bone in his body.

A prophet indeed. Merlin had seen me coming. He even knew my sizes. 

No one had ever taken care of me like this. And I knew in my heart that he had no agenda. I, Freyja the First Witch, would remember this kindness.

I put on the pale blue shirt and matching pants and looked into the mirror. The color brought out the dark blue in my eyes. For a change, I didn’t wear the red cloak the druid had left with the clothing. I wouldn’t be among the crowd today.

I stalked out of the house, hands inside the velvet gloves.

Boomer waited outside the door, his hand on the hilt of a broad sword. A watch dog. He didn’t take me lightly now.

“His Highness asked me to escort you to the garden for breakfast,” he said in a bored voice.

Dining in the garden? Picnic? If I weren’t a captive, I would jump up and down.

I looked up at the sky. It was nearly mid-morning. At least Ares hadn’t sent one of his minions to drag me out of bed before I was fully awake.

Ares was immune to my touch. Was this one also lucky? I was dying to test Boomer in order to know whether the Dragonian prince was the only one who could touch me, but I controlled my urge to take off my gloves and lay my hand on the grumpy warrior.

I silently followed him and entered the maze of the garden.

The air was hot, humid, yet the fabric of my clothes didn’t stick to my skin, unlike my old attire. The gloves were breathy enough for my hands. I bet Merlin’s gift was made of special material tailored specifically for me.

Which meant that the druid had seen me coming a long time ago. 

Voices reached me before I saw the group around a wooden oval table.

Ares darted a glance at me then showed no interest for a second look. He talked to Merlin in reverence and drank his fucking high tea.

“Freyja,” Lucas greeted me with a wide grin. “You look like a fair maiden.”

Einarr gave me a polite nod. The rest of the Dragonians sent me a collective warning scowl. I could see that the lot blamed me for Tyrone’s banishment.

“You look fetching yourself, Lucas,” I said.

Lucas chortled in appreciation.

Ares put down his teacup, louder than necessary, but he didn’t look my way.

The druid smiled warmly. “Good morning, Freyja. Did you sleep well?”

“Quite well after a dull night,” I said with a quick, easy smile and caught the prince tensing on his seat. “Thank you for your generosity, Merlin. I wish one day I can repay you.”

If I ever lived through my expiration date, I’d repay him. I remembered every kindness toward me and always paid back my debt, good or bad.

“Don’t mention it. It’s the least I can do,” the druid said, then shifting to the ancient angelic tongue, “for a princess.”

I felt the blood drain from my face instantly. And this time the prince’s eyes glued on me. Just when I thought the sorcerer was friendly, he decided to betray me. Though I was no match for him, I would still fight him. He’d find that I had a nasty surprise for him.

A crackling sound made me jump, and dark fire traveled on my skin aggressively. I widened my eyes in shock. I hadn’t known I had fire magic and I had no clue how to muster it or douse it if I wanted to.

Merlin stared at the fire sneaking up my neck and face in amazement, but Ares and his gang couldn’t see it.

“Freyja,” Merlin called, and his benign intention reached me like the breeze.

I’d been paranoid. If Merlin wanted to harm me, he could have done it last night. When he had called me princess, he’d used the ancient angelic tongue that only he and I could understand.

The fire on my skin vanished, but my blood remained cold.

“I’m no princess,” I said icily in the same angelic tongue.

“You were born a princess, Freyja,” Merlin said. “You’ll be queen to a great, new nation. Do not be ashamed of your legacy for any reason. You don’t know how important you are to Earth.”

“I don’t care about being important,” I said.

Merlin sighed. “Your bloodline is the most ancient and powerful in the universe—own it.” He shifted back to the common Earth language, “Join us, Freyja.” He pointed to the empty seat next to Ares.

I would not sit by him.

I sauntered toward the table. A drink would ease my parched throat.

I lifted the cup of tea Merlin poured for me and picked a large piece of teacake with my gloved hand.

“If you don’t mind,” I addressed Merlin instead of asking the jackass prince’s permission, “I would like to sit over there. More breathing space.” I scrambled toward a small round table that could accommodate no more than three people and happily put some distance between the Dragonians and me. 

Ares peeled a hard-boiled egg and didn’t make a comment.

I was thankful that the chair had a cushion. I settled down and sipped my tea, sighing in satisfaction. It was the best tea I’d ever tasted.

I was certain Merlin brewed it with magic. Later, I would ask him if I could bring my wolves and come to live with him for a while if I returned from the Twilight Realm. He could teach me the magic that lurked in my dark soul. If I could learn how to unleash it, then it wouldn’t burn in my veins.

Though I sat alone, I had to fight my urge to gaze in Ares’ direction. His savage strength was palpable even in the open space. It wasn’t only his strong presence demanding attention—a magnetic force kept pulling me toward him, and it seemed one way.

Evidently, Ares didn’t feel the tug that I felt at all. This was the first time since our encounter that he ignored my existence. He laughed with the druid, not caring that I was still breathing, or enjoying my teacake on a lone table a few yards from his.

Last night’s humiliation wheeled back to me, but I quickly shoved it out of my head. Freyja the First Witch was a survivor.

The cool wind brushed my face, tousling my hair. I slanted my eyes half shut. My skin breathed freely in this magical garden. I thought of the crumbling civilization outside. I wondered where my wolves were now and how far I was from them.

A hand with elegant long fingers placed a plate of passion fruits and a buttered biscuit in front of me. Merlin refilled my teacup and sat across from me.

“Mind some company?” he asked.

“I’m drinking your tea and eating your cake, aren’t I?” I said.

I darted a quick glance at the prince’s table. The lot all stared at us. The Dragonians particularly didn’t understand why the druid would show me such attention and special favor.

“Then shouldn’t you shake my hand as a token of thanks?” he said, stretching his hand toward me.

My gloved hand moved to meet his. “And thank you for the gloves.”

“Freyja,” he said, “people don’t shake hands with gloves.”

I longed to test if I had lost my death touch, but Merlin was not my target. He had known my bloodline. He should have known about my lethal touch.

“I would rather be rude than harmful,” I said.

“It’s okay, Freyja,” he said. “Trust me. I won’t be the first one to survive a touch.”

My face flamed. So he knew about what had transpired between Areas and me last night. Was he also a mind reader?

I instantly put on my mental shield.

He tugged at my glove and pulled it out.

Merlin held my bare hand between his palms.

My heart stopped for a second and my breath caught. “Merlin,” I choked with emotion. But when tears came up, I forced them back. I’d been healed of my death touch without realizing it when I’d stepped into his garden of blessing. That was why Ares could sustain my touch last night. He wasn’t special after all.

But the contact with the druid felt very differently than with the Dragonian prince. Ares’ touch had set me on fire while Merlin’s made me feel normal for the first time. His vast warmth enveloped me. I was finally a normal girl.

“Unfortunately, Freyja,” the sorcerer said ruefully in the ancient angelic tongue, “you can’t go around testing your theory. Only two more superior beings are immune to your touch, and they’re the ones you plan to pay a visit.”

I knew whom he meant—the Fey Empress and the High Prince of All Angels.

“Do they know about me and who I—?” I asked, then stopped as a harsh voice boomed beside me.

Ares towered over our table. “What do you think you’re doing, druid?” he demanded, glaring at Merlin.

“What do you think we’re doing?” I snapped. “We’re having a private conversation that you have no right to interfere with.”

Ares ignored me. “Let her go, Merlin.”

“My interest in Freyja is of magical curiosity, Prince,” Merlin said mildly. “You should not be alarmed.” But he released my hand nevertheless.

I gave Ares a dirty look as I put the glove back onto my hand, but he wasn’t looking at me.

“Magical curiosity?” Ares seized the subject in an avid interest. “What do you mean? Does she possess magic?”

“That’s not for me to tell, Prince,” Merlin said. “Freyja is her own person, and she always will be. If you want to win her, treat her likely.”

“He’ll never win me!” I said.

At exactly the same time, Ares said, “I have no intention to win her. She’ll do what she promised to do.”

I never promised him anything.

“Only after she fulfills her end of the bargain,” continued the cold bastard, “can she go wherever she wants and do whatever she wants to do.”

“You’ll need to win her,” Merlin said, “if you ever want to find the First Witch.” 

My pulse quickened. I really didn’t like how this game was playing.

Ares tensed. “I haven’t had the chance to bring up the subject of the First Witch.”

Merlin arched an eyebrow.

“Fine,” Ares sighed. “I’ve come to seek your council, as my father did.”

“Then show the great prophet respect,” I said. I should have stirred the trouble between them when Ares had first yelled at the druid, but I’d been trying to process Merlin’s revelation. “I believe even Commander North Darken dared not take this tone with Master Merlin.” I turned to gaze at the sorcerer with all the adoration I could conjure up. “You can throw him out of your garden easily. You don’t have to put up with his insolence.”

Ares trained his hard stare on me. He was finally looking at me. I sneered and his nostrils flared. Like that could make me shiver with fear. I was death! But then I realized my death touch had no effect on him. I should ask Merlin why.

“Stop your futile rebelling, Freyja,” Ares ordered. “And since you’ve been fed, we’ll be packing and leaving. We won’t further bother Merlin.”

I could see how his isolation worked. He kept Lucas away from me, and now Merlin, because everyone could see that I felt connected to the druid.

And the prince talked as if he really owned me, despite that Merlin had just warned him of treating me like a person.

“I haven’t finished my breakfast,” I said, pointing at the food on my plate. “I have two more biscuits to go and—”

“You’re done with your breakfast for now,” Ares said, anxious to get me away from Merlin, as if he was afraid the druid would steal me away. “You can have more on the road.”

“I still need to finish my tea,” I hissed.

Was he going to drag me out of my seat? If I grabbed the edge of the table, the large-sized bastard would just take the table with me. Would Merlin assist me? I thought of throwing the tea at Ares’ face, but it was almost empty.

“Your path doesn’t stop here, Freyja,” Merlin said. “Go forward and become who you’re supposed to be.”

“How?” I wanted to be the powerful First Witch in truth, but I was also terrified of becoming her.

A blast of light surged toward me from across the table. There wasn’t enough time to put my hands up to shield myself, or do anything to fend it off.

The light shot straight into my eyes.

I jerked backwards and yelped.

Waves of images twirled in my head, speeding along, overlapping, and leeching to the walls of my skull.

Ares shoved me behind him along with my chair, a long sword tight in his hand. “What did you do to her, druid? Any harm comes to her—”

Merlin didn’t even look at him. He poured tea into his own cup. “I’ll never harm Freyja.”

“Then what did you do to her?” Ares demanded, knuckles white on the hilt of his sword. “She isn’t your test subject. She’s fragile.”

Me, fragile?

His team surrounded Merlin.

No matter how Ares defended me, I waited for the conflict to aggravate. I would join Merlin in a heartbeat. Instinctively, I knew how powerful he was, and practically, it was safest to stay with him.

The light was actually Merlin’s magical gift to me. He’d just graced me with some arcane knowledge. He sent me a reproaching look for keeping quiet.

“That’s my present to Freyja,” Merlin said. “She’ll need it to protect herself.”

Ares spat. “I won’t harm her.” 

“Not you,” said Merlin.

“Then who?” Ares demanded, a crimson ring forming in his eyes.

“She’s being hunted,” said Merlin.

“Who’s hunting her?” Ares snarled.

“I see things but not all things,” said Merlin. Then to me, he said, “The prince has just defended you instinctively, even against me. He’ll always protect you.”

“While I’m useful to him,” I said.

Merlin looked at me, then at Ares, and smiled enigmatically. “Your journey will be an interesting one.”

Ventus had said the same thing.

“Freyja will stay with me for the rest of the morning,” Merlin said. “I have something more to show her.”

“Whatever you show her, you can show me,” said Ares.

He was like a stubborn dog on a bone.

“This is a private matter,” I said.

“There’s no private matter with any of my team members,” Ares said, folding his arms across his chest and spreading his legs wide to show how firm he was on that point.

“I’m not your team,” I said. “I’ll never show you my fealty.”

“Would you rather be my prisoner?” he asked.

I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t see the difference.” 

“Oh, there’s a huge difference,” he said. “And you’ll learn not to get on my bad side.”

“I don’t want to get on any side of you,” I said, then last night’s images flooded back, and I flushed in anger, which at least covered part of my humiliation.

I thought of kicking his calf, but I might hurt only my own foot—Ares was all rock hard muscles.

Returning his sword to his sheath on his back, Ares pulled a spare chair and sat beside me. His minions went back to their table at the wave of his hand. Boomer hurried to bring his prince’s teacup and refill the tea for him. That one was good at kissing ass.

Ares drank deeply. I hoped he’d choked on the hot liquid, but unfortunately, he didn’t. He put down the cup and looked at us with anticipation and satisfaction.

For a few seconds, the three of us just looked at one another.

I opened my mouth, and before the angelic tongue flowed out of me, Ares beat me to it. “I don’t like being kept in the dark,” he said. “The two of your will show me courtesy. You’ll talk in the common language instead of that secret, coded one.”

How was I going to ask Merlin the multitude of questions I had?

I cussed in the angelic tongue.

Ares stared at me hard. He knew it was a cuss.

“Freyja,” Merlin chastened me, and I offered him a sheepish look.

He sighed and let it go. When he placed his hands on the table, palms up, I knew what he wanted me to do and pressed my hands on his.

“Close your eyes,” Merlin said. I shut my eyes at his command.

However, I couldn’t really concentrate since Ares’ body heat radiated beside me and the wind kept sending his intoxicating male scent in my direction. Everything about him called for me to go to him, even after what he’d done to me last night.

A picture of me sitting on his lap and snuggling up to him formed in my mind.

My body would always have these needs, and my skin would forever hunger for his touch, but my will was not weak and it crashed the images of my desire.

Even with my eyes tightly shut, I could feel Ares’ scorching gaze on my face. To test my theory, I opened one eye and caught him staring at me with longing and savage hunger. The wings of light fluttered in my stomach.

Ares narrowed his eyes to slits and frowned at me to cover up his unguarded emotion, but it was too late for him.

“Concentrate, Freyja!” he barked. “Merlin asked you to shut your eyes. Must you always screw up?”

“Sure,” I said. “When Merlin says jump, I’ll ask how high.” I opened the other eye and winked at him before closing both.

I could hear his growling and a small vengeful surge of satisfaction grew within me.

A gentle wind skimmed in my head, and my face flamed. Merlin had seen my fantasy. I needed to put a strong mental shield against him. I’d done that when the guardians tried to poke into my mind, but with Merlin, I was defenseless like a toddler.

Are you done playing, Freyja? Merlin’s voice sounded in my head.

Uh, sorry. I was waiting for you to give me instructions, I said. 

As a man of few words, Merlin answered by sending a stream of explosive light into my head. It turned to fire, spreading in me and searching.

I hadn’t expected such a searing pain. I could feel my facial muscles distorting. I ground my teeth to muffle a scream that came up my throat.

“Release her, Merlin!” Ares shouted.

The fire hovered above a dark lake covered by layers of thick ice, where I had banished and locked the beast. Merlin had found the place where I never wanted to visit. Except once a year, when I had to fortify the ice to ensure it was unbreakable. Now and then, I’d skate to the lake and look through the ice to see if it was still there.

Merlin, I hissed, leave it be.

His fire didn’t obey me. It turned to a spear and plunged into the ice.

No! I cried. It’s a mistake.

If the beast was released, I couldn’t imagine the consequences.

The table shook and the teapot and cups on it bumped up and down.

A vortex formed, circling Merlin and me and sending Ares and his chair flying backwards.

I heard him crashing onto the ground.

His men shouted, but none of them could get inside the vortex.

A patch of ice broke. A hole appeared.

A shapeless entity, darker than midnight and immensely powerful, surged from the bottom of the lake and landed on top of the ice.

My nightmare. My monster.

“Merlin!” I whimpered in panic.

Control it, child, Merlin said.

I can’t. I don’t know how. I had wrestled with it before. It had almost become me and worn my skin forever.

And now it was out, bigger, mightier, and in a blinding rage.

Fear paralyzed me and cold sweat drenched my armpits. Who could tame a beast like that? With sheer will, I ordered myself not to pass out. If I did, I would never have a chance to wake up again. It would fully possess me. It wouldn’t just shove me aside; it would lock me at the bottom of the ice lake as I’d done to it.

It isn’t an alien force, Merlin said. It’s a part of you that you’ve refused to face. You need to acknowledge it, claim it, own it, and command it.

Just because he’d fucking said so?

The druid had no idea how terrible and terrifying it was! He had no fucking idea what it was. I started hyperventilating.

It’s your natural born power, your inheritance, Merlin said. Angels are monsters, but they’re the most beautiful, terrifying, and marvelous species out there. They’re the ultimate predator in the universe, as are you. You look out the window through your human eyes, but you aren’t just a human. You need to accept your other half unconditionally, good or bad, if you ever want to be whole.

And my bloodline was the most ancient and potent in the universe, and evil and predatory.

No, I would not be like the Angel King. I wouldn’t allow the beast to swallow all that I had left from my mother. She was the good that I clung to every day.

I’d seen my father’s atrocious acts through my mother’s memories. I’d seen the burns on her skin and the layers of scars on her back left by a jagged iron whip. I had owned her scars since I was a child. 

While she was alive, she was never aware that I had the power to acquire truth and knowledge through a touch.

I was the product of a brutal rape, yet she cherished me more than anything in the world. Every night she rocked me to sleep with songs of love, bravery, and heroes, and I’d been a difficult baby. Tears flowed down my face.

Where I treasured the good that flowed in my veins, I despised my father’s foul blood that also coursed in me. I hated Angels with iron hot intensity, just as my mother had hated them. Yet she carried her duty for the hope of peace on Earth. 

But after the war, this planet had become even more violent. We slaughtered each other for dominance and over racial resentment and different religious. We slaughtered each other over nothing. The earthlings didn’t deserve my mother’s sacrifice, nor did I.

The ancient Angel bloodline doesn’t define you, Freyja, Merlin said, but how you rise from it does. Quit your self-loathing. Your mother didn’t love and sacrifice for you for nothing. Your uncle—the High Prince of All Angels—shares the same bloodline as you, yet he’s the source of good now. Children do not inherit their parents’ or ancestors’ sins if they choose not to follow the same dark path as their forebears. You’re stronger than you believe, child.

The entity, changing forms between shape and shapeless, stood on the ice, its glowing eyes looking straight at me. It was a menacing force—dark and greedy, mighty and vengeful.

The temperature suddenly dropped below zero and I trembled.

It stalked toward me, purposefully and forebodingly. It was half-mad and starving, and furious after being locked away for too long. 

I blew out a breath of frost and staggered back.

Merlin had asked me to claim it, but it actually wanted to claim me, as it’d always wanted.

It wanted to wear my skin and breathe in the fresh air through my body.

The ultimate predator.

Go back! I snarled.

It pounded toward me silently.

Stop!

It kept on. It was now a few feet from me, regarding me, its breath dark and its eyes crimson. 

It’s the missing part of you, Merlin’s voice sounded in my ear, but when I looked behind me, he wasn’t there.

Acknowledge it, claim it, and command it.

Easy for him to say. He didn’t need to face this ghastly monster.

I wouldn’t let it have me. I wouldn’t let it be part of me.

Fuck off! I threw all I had in me—the wind, dust, and cusses. The wind drove Merlin’s fire toward the beast. The monster wheeled to the fire and growled.

Merlin’s fire was no match to it. The great sorcerer couldn’t stop the darkness from possessing me. Once the beast snuffed out his fire, there would be nothing between it and me.

But I was Freyja, First Witch. I always had my tricks.

Instead of tossing my borrowed spear of fire at the beast, I made the spear cut into the ice around it at a blindingly speed.

The entity plummeted into the lake with the collapsed patches of ice. It sent me a mournful look as it disappeared under the water.

I poured my sheer will and all of my ability into sealing the dark lake with thick ice again.

And then I withdrew every breath of air in my realm until Merlin’s fire went out. I did not want the druid messing up my reality again.

The shapeless darkness spread under the ice, seeking a crack, but there was none. My ice was my lifetime’s work. I’d been strengthening it for as long as I knew, terrified that the nightmare would come out.

The darkness shifted back to the beast, pounding on the ice. Rapid, powerful, and desperate. And a deep, strange ache rammed into my heart.

Dark or not, the beast was part of my essence, and when it plunged back into the abyss of the lake, it tore a piece off me.

Without it, I was crippled. Without it, I would never truly be the First Witch.

But I wasn’t willing to pay the price just to have the formidable power.

I snapped open my eyes. The vortex was gone. My shaking hands were not in the druid’s anymore. My throat burned from the exertion.

Merlin was no better. His former glowing face was gray. I didn’t know whether it was from unleashing my hidden magic or from me snuffing out his fire.

I’d put the beast back to keep the human part of me safe, yet I knew I had also utterly failed, and Merlin’s light and fire had been wasted for nothing. He’d found the source of my Angel power, yet I resealed it out of my unquenchable fear.

I wasn’t ready to merge with the beast of darkness, and I might never be ready, even though Merlin’s message was clear—it was the only path for me to be complete and be the true First Witch. If I could overcome my aversion to my Angel heritage and claim the dark monster, I might not need to go to the Twilight Realm to seek a cure.

“Perception shapes reality,” Merlin said, exhaustion laced in his voice. “And our perceptions are often wrong. Don’t let prejudice hold you back, Freyja.” The rest of his words sounded silently in my head. I can do no more for you. Your magic is angelic and atomically powerful, not the kind on Earth. Only you can harness it. Facing your own darkness and fear is the first step.

I swallowed.

“What did he do to you?” Ares was at our side again, darting his fierce gaze between us, worry and anger unmasked his eyes. He fixed on Merlin, his nostrils flared. “What did you turn her into? You should not touch the innocent!”

“Merlin showed me the ladder to the dark stars,” I said, “only, I couldn’t climb it.”

“Not yet, Freyja,” he said. “One day you will, now that you know where to look.”

And for the first time, I acknowledged that while my beast suffered at the bottom of the ice lake, I also suffered.