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THE WITCH'S CONSORT (The First Witch Book 2) by Meg Xuemei X (1)

 

My name is Freyja, the First Witch. The Dragonian prince Ares Darken and his six warriors know me as the wolf girl. Assisted by the Oracle, Ares located me in my forest home and forced me to leave my pack to find the First Witch for him.

Clueless that I was her, he was convinced the witch was his fated mate.

We’d been on the bumping road until I ditched him just now.

I gave him what he wanted—a witch, but a fake one.

I lied to him—naturally—and told him that the noblewoman in the store was his true mate. While they gazed upon each other as if they had both just discovered the wonders of the universe, I took off.

I broke the yoke the half-blood prince imposed on me, yet freedom didn’t taste as sweet as I thought. I hadn’t expected to be entangled with Ares, but since he was the only man, save for the powerful druid, who could sustain my death touch, I’d been addicted to his scorching caress.

If he’d given me what I wanted, I’d have stayed with him like a junkie to drugs. But he refused to sate me, vowing to stay true to the First Witch he had yet to meet. He lusted after me, but he coveted her more. I had nothing to offer him other than a few nights of pleasure, but she would bring him the greatest kingdom on Earth.

The Oracle had screwed him over big time. Look at me. How could I bring him an empire? I couldn’t even bring him a meal, and I’d constantly demanded he feed me.

I’d vowed to never reveal my true identity to anyone in order to preserve myself, protect myself. My father’s Angel sentinels had been hunting me from the moment I’d been born.

My mother had died to keep me alive. The whole village where I’d been born had perished because of me. I was a Nephilim, an abomination, the first and only hybrid of an advanced human and Angel. I also had Fey essence in me.

But now was no time to dwell on my past. Just as I was about to sprint toward my sour-tasting freedom and put the smoking-hot Dragonian prince behind me, the Angels caught up with me.

In an alley no one dared enter, three Angels closed in on me: one from the sky, two from each end of the alleyway. Their massive black wings heaved behind their shoulders, their long swords flashing white in their hands.

My heart pumped with raw fear.

I assessed my situation.

I had no weapon at my disposal. The damned Dragonians had taken all of my angelblade—the only weapon that could bleed the Angels.

Ares had done me great damage by kidnapping and exposing me. Now while my hunters were hell-bent on murdering me or planning something worse, the prince and his noblewoman were drinking in the horny sight of each other.

I would die today. I wouldn’t even get a chance to tell him my blood was on his hands rather than on the Angel monsters’.

The only small comfort was that I wasn’t completely defenseless.

I was a weapon.

I prayed that the Angels hadn’t learned about my lethal touch.

As soon as the eye-patched Angel swooped toward me with a serpentine smile on his cruel lips, I recognized my handiwork. I’d sunk an angelblade into his left eye at the bottom of the lake ten years ago.

Time sure had flown by.

I’d thought he was dead.

Swiftly, I stripped myself bare, my clothing piling at my feet. On top of the heap were the velvet gloves Merlin made for me.

No one could save me—not the great druid, not Fey, and definitely not the insufferable Dragonian prince.

I could only count on myself now.

Every inch of my bare skin was death. If humans touched me, they would die in agony in two seconds. It took three seconds for a Dragonian. Angels would last for seven long seconds.

My hunters gaped at my nakedness. When I spotted lust in the beautiful monsters’ eyes, I felt hopeful and repulsed.

Come and touch, boys, I beckoned them, swaying my hips. Let’s play.

But the Angels on the ground halted several yards from me. My heart stopped cold. Did they know about the lethalness of my skin?

My panic dissipated when I saw their heated gazes roving over my breasts.

I brushed a nipple to spice things up and get their blood flow to their groins. I would need to be provocative. Violence and sex went hand in hand with their species.

“Hello again, Princess,” the one with the eye-patch called, his good eye a burning dark coal.

I flashed him a syrupy smile and purred, “Hello, gorgeous. I’ve missed you. You look exotic with that patch. Is it homemade?”

“Freyja, right?” he asked. “You’re all grown up.”

His unforgiving smile sent chills down my spine. He’d learned my name. He’d followed me here. He’d watched Ares and me fuck. Why had he waited until now?

“How did you know I’m in Amathus?” I asked in a sweet voice.

Though I’d accumulated angelic data when I’d killed an Archangel and learned more about the alien predators’ origin, I still had no idea how they knew about my existence in the first place. They hadn’t been able to find me after I’d escaped them last time. I speculated that somehow my pack could shield me from their sight or maybe my forest blocked their probe. That protection must have expired when Ares dragged me out of my haven. He’d exposed me long enough for my enemies to track me down.

Eye-patch cocked his head. “Take a guess, Princess.”

I really hated him for calling me that.

“Did you see me from a crystal ball?” I fished. Of course not. But I’d heard that they stored information in crystal devices. They had to have some kind of gadget to track me.

“I’ll be happy to show you,” Eye-patch said. “If you go with us nicely instead of kicking, screaming, and stabbing at me like last time.”

It was good that he hadn’t mentioned touching, which meant I had a fighting chance.

I pressed my back against the cold stone wall, so I could watch the three of them at the same time. I bent a knee, keeping my pose provocatively erotic.

“I’ve been waiting for you for a long time,” I said. “Why show up now?”

As I tried to get them to talk, I noticed they were in no hurry to approach me. The Angels studied me with mixed menacing interest and lust. Their black wings remained arched and their hands gripped their swords.

I was a half Angel. While earthling weapons couldn’t harm me, the angelblade would give me a fatal wound.

“Where did you hide, Princess, before you tangled up with the barbarians? Your grandfather will be disappointed in your dallying with the inferior races.”

My heart skipped a beat. It was the first time he’d hinted who was behind this hunt—my evil grandfather. The former Dark Lord of All Angels had been the mightiest being in the universe before his heir, High Prince Seth, had shattered his essence.

But the Dark Lord didn’t die. Rumor was he was hiding in the deepest void, seeking to return. It’d been decades, and Prince Seth’s hunting party hadn’t succeeded in flushing him out.

I laughed deceptively. “Then my grandfather should come to discipline me in person.”

It was anyone’s worst nightmare to be on the Dark Lord’s list. He had no remorse and no restriction, even when it came to killing his own flesh and blood. He’d once let my father sever his heir’s wings because the High Prince defied his order to harvest the Fey Empress’ magic.

“The High Lord will do more than disciplining,” Eye-patch chuckled, “after we take you to him.”

My breath caught in my throat. My instinct had been right. My grandfather was a notorious power absorber. For eons, he’d gone around the galaxies to harvest great powers before his heir had blasted him off to defend his mate.

Now he wanted mine.

He must have known I was his son’s spawn. He must have sensed the darkness in me and thought it would boost him more than any other power, since we were of the same bloodline.

I tilted my head to regard Eye-patch. “I’d love to visit him, but isn’t he too far away? I don’t have a long life. He should hurry up and come to Earth, if he really wants to see his only granddaughter.”

“The ship is waiting on the other side of the portal,” Eye-patch said. “We can travel in light years. I’m sure you’re also an immortal, like your father. Like us.”

Eye-patch dropped the distance between us. He looked down at me from less than twenty feet in the air.

If I leaped and attacked him by surprise, I could at least grab his foot. I would climb up, touch his hand or his wing, and send him to an agonizing death. Then I would jump over the walls and roofs, land on the other side of the market place, and merge into the crowd.

To guarantee a success, I needed him to be closer and less guarded.

“Since my grandfather sent you to pick me up, shouldn’t you kneel in front of your Princess? Where are your manners?”

The other two Angels blinked, but kept watching me like hawks on their sole prey.

Eye-patch barked a hateful laugh. “Under different circumstances, we would have to, Princess.”

My biological father was no longer a king. He’d been burned by the Fey Empress and then beheaded by his own brother in their final battle.

“King Agro perished, but my grandfather still rules the universe,” I said. That was a joke. The Dark Lord had been hunted. But these goons liked to think their master was still in charge. “He won’t be pleased when he learns how his only granddaughter is treated.”

“You grandfather won’t care how we ship you,” Eye-patch said. “As long as you’re delivered and not completely dead.”

A chill ran up my spine.

“Tell me how you killed two of my former associates, Princess,” Eye-patch’s voice turned icier and crueler, “and I’ll make the whole process less gruesome for you.”

My heart leapt with a small hope. He didn’t know about my death touch.

“I can show you,” I said with a sweeter smile, “with a hot kiss. You know I have a thing for Angels.”

He stared at my mouth warily. “So you have His High Lord’s power?”

What power exactly?

King Agro had been a dud—the shame had driven him to be the worst sadist and made him hate his half-brother, the High Prince, to the bone marrow. If he were alive, knowing the ancient, angelic royal power had skipped a generation but had chosen me, his bastard half-breed, I wondered if he would shriek and scream unceasingly.

Only, I didn’t want this poisonous Angel power that had cursed me.

“I have Earth power from Goddess Rhea,” I bluffed. “Empress Rose used the power to drive your kind out, and I’ll do exactly the same. If your High Prince learns you’re still here, he’ll dwell upon you like an eagle on pigs. He isn’t known to be merciful. So be gone. Now.”

“You’re shrewd, Princess,” Eye-patch said. “But the High Prince has his hands full with his twins at the moment. His half-bred brats give him more trouble than the whole Fey nation.”

“Then he’ll want the streets to be clean of any vermin,” I said. “I should give him a call. An Earth citizen should always do her duty.”

“I doubt he’ll be nicer to you than to me if he knows who you are,” said Eye-patch.

“The princess might have the pulse power,” chimed in a platinum-haired Angel, who guarded the north end of the alley. 

“What pulse power?” Eye-patch asked, his eye staying on me.

“If you touch her, she pulses and kills,” the platinum-haired Angel said. “His High Lord has it and can kill at will. Perhaps that’s how she killed Ullrik and Zeno.”

“We shall not touch her bare skin,” the other Angel added his unworthy opinion. “She removed all of her clothing in order to murder us in cold blood.”

“Activate your armor and grab her,” Eye-patch ordered.

I bent my knees and doubled over, pretending to laugh at their ridiculous theory, only to leap toward Eye-patch like a flash before he could finish his sentence. I didn’t inherit wings from my Angel side, but I could jump higher than any earthling.

I could have leapt onto the guardian’s back easily each time, but I’d held back, not wanting Ares to learn about my strengths or weaknesses.

Eye-patch saw me coming and surged up. 

I grabbed his left foot, though I had aimed for his neck. My other hand dragged down his trousers. If I could get an inch of his bare skin, I would make sure he stayed dead this time. As his trousers came down, his foot booted my head with a savage force. If I were a complete human, that kick would have broken my skull.

No mortals could sustain an Angel’s strike.

My head didn’t crack, but pain exploded inside.

I loosened my grip on Eye-patch.

As I fell, I spun in the air and threw myself at the closest Angel below. He hadn’t expected my move. I always had tricks in my arsenal. I landed on his wings, grabbed his platinum hair, and shoved my hand to his neck.

He went down with a scream, his sword flying from him. The other Angel in the alley charged toward me, his blade thrusting at me while I still perched on his pal’s back.

I twisted my torso and watched helplessly as the cold blade came not toward my heart but my shoulder. He planned to incapacitate me and then capture me. I couldn’t avoid that thrust, but I would have the narrow window to slash my own throat before the angelblade went through me.

Whatever hideous plan my evil grandfather had for me, he could kiss its ugly butt goodbye. My corpse wouldn’t do him any good. Let him hole up in his dark lair for eternity.

I drew out an angelblade strapped on my victim’s thigh while he shrieked in agony. He had to suffer my burn for a few more seconds.

The Angel’s blade punctured my skin. Just as I propelled my body forward toward its hilt to reach my enemy’s hand and give it a fine, final death touch, an enraged roar thundered beside me, “You won’t touch her!”

A white flash slammed up against the Angel’s sword that pricked beneath my shoulder blade. I pulled backwards at once, away from the crossing blades, and jumped up with the angelblade in my hand.

I thought I would never see Prince Darken again in my life, and there he was—attacking the Angel like a mad dog. The kind of brutality he exuded wasn’t suited for a faint-hearted. 

What was he doing here? Why wasn’t he with his precious witch? I’d left him gawking at the noblewoman. She’d gazed up at him with white-hot desire and laid her elegant hand on his muscled arm to claim him.

I’d believed they’d go fuck each other’s brains out after that, and my heart had bled at the mere thought.

But he was here, defending me.

Though my heart leapt with joy at the sight of him, I wondered why he’d left his witch so soon. He’d finally gotten what he’d wanted—the First Witch. She was a fake, but he wasn’t aware of it. How could he have the strength to leave her behind and come for me?

His lips curled away from his teeth, which lengthened to fangs. Earth! I widened my eyes as he grew a foot taller. His physique broadened. His features changed to something more akin to a ferocious beast than that of a man.

I didn’t allow myself to be mesmerized by his transformation. I needed to focus on taking down Eye-patch and keep Ares from getting killed.

That had been taken care of when thunderous roars announced the arrival of the guardians. 

Ventus and Ignis tore into Eye-patch from the opposite direction, their jaws wide open and their iron fangs sharpened.

Their rapid movements blurred into one giant form as they fought.

However, the blur evened out when battle-hardened Eye-patch showed his deviousness. He shot out between the guardians and they crashed into each other. Ignis roared in pain and shot a mouthful of fire toward his foe, but Eye-patch’s armor absorbed it.

Blood spattered on my face from the sky, and it wasn’t the Angel’s.

“Take me up!” I shouted. I could stand on a guardian’s back and aide them.

Massive wings flapped rapidly toward us. Glacies and Mettalum bellowed their battle cries as they charged at Eye-patch. 

Eye-patch tossed an angelblade at Glacies’ head. Glacies reared down and the blade narrowly missed his neck, plunging into his shoulder instead. Glacies growled in fury, turned, and slammed into Eye-patch. 

I had to leave the four guardians to bring him down. I needed to aid Ares with his fight against the Angel on the ground.

Ares’ blade drew blood from the Angel, but his opponent sliced his leg. If I could get behind the Angel’s back, we could sandwich him.

I could leap and land behind him, but it would end badly for me if he suddenly flew up and snatched me. I was willing to take the risk, though. I hated seeing Ares injured and bleeding.

I ran a few yards backwards. Before I could launch into a leap, Einarr emerged from the other end of the alley and lunged at the attacking Angel.

The Angel wheeled, hacking left and right to fend off Ares and Einarr. While the two warriors were thrown off by his sudden burst of force, the Angel shot up to the sky.

Mettalum emerged right above him, opened his massive mouth, and closed on the Angel’s neck. The Angel thrashed about in Mettalum’s jaw, trying to break from his grip as he brought his sword up to hack at the beast.

Earthling weapons couldn’t harm an Angel. An earthling creature couldn’t end the superior alien with a bite either. Ares leapt up, raised his angelblade, and sank it into the Angel’s heart.

The Angel went limp and dropped his sword.

Eye-patch sent me a vengeful smile before he sped upward and fled, faster than a streak of lightning. Three of the guardians gave a chase. In a blink they were gone. 

“I’ve flushed you out, Princess,” Eye-patch’s sinister voice reached me from distant somewhere. “We’ve got your blood imprint. The High Lord’s army will come for you. We’ll never cease hunting you until he has you. When I return, I’ll gut your Dragonian hybrid in front of you. That’s my promise to you for taking my eye out, Princess.”

I couldn’t help but trembled at the threat.

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