Chapter Thirty-Eight

REMI

The water embraces me, cool and soothing. I open my eyes, and the world above blurs and distorts. The peace of the water envelops me, and for a moment, I forget the danger I’m in.
But then, the currents shift, and the water around me begins to glow. Shapes form in the water, swirling and dancing, ethereal figures with luminous skin and flowing hair. They are my ancestors, I realize with a start. Spirits of those who came before me.

Their voices whisper through the water, soft and urgent. "Beware the Witches," they say. "They are stealing your power."

I try to speak, but my voice is lost in the water. The spirits circle around me, their eyes filled with sorrow and warning. "You must fight," they urge. "You must resist."
Perhaps this is all a dream, but somehow I can speak. “But Keiran’s bargain–every person in the city will die if we resist the Witches.”

A spirit moves towards me, her face vaguely familiar. “Tell Keiran he must kill all but one, then tell him his Black Pearl can be found on the Second Beach.”

My head spins–what are they talking about? Am I dead?

I wish I was. I can feel the Witches' pull, a dark, insidious force sapping my strength. The spirits reach out, their hands brushing against mine, and I feel a surge of warmth and energy.
"Remember who you are," they say. "Our power lives inside you."

It’s not until the spirits begin to fade, that I realize the one speaking to me was Reiyna. My warrior sister.

The currents shift again. I reach out, trying to hold on to my sister, but she slips through my fingers like water. "Don't leave me," I want to cry out. "I need you."

But Reiyna is gone, and the water around me grows cold.

I will fight for her. I will fight the Witches.

I kick my legs, pushing myself towards the surface. As I break through, gasping for air, the world above comes rushing back. The priestesses, cloaked in red veils, watch me with a mixture of fear and awe. The nicer one, her veil speckled with my blood and milky water, stands a step back, eyes wide with dread and pity. Her iron-gripped counterpart clings to my wrists as though I might bolt at any moment.

Every movement feels slow, deliberate, as if the world itself is holding its breath. The throne room is vast and silent, a cavernous space of dark stone and shadow. Jasmine and moonflowers fill the air with their heady scent, but even their fragrance cannot mask the underlying tension.

Kallias and Rhodes are at either side of the pool now, their protective presence a comforting constant. Their dark hair, the color of midnight, gleams in the low light, and their identical blue eyes are sharp, scanning the room for threats. Subtle movements reveal their readiness: a hand tightening on a hilt, a step closer to me, a shared glance that speaks volumes.

The Midnight King sits on his throne, his ice-blue eyes piercing through the dim light. He’s unbothered, but Xaden’s red eyes still burn with a mix of disgust and hesitation. His hand touches Kieran's arm, a silent exchange that makes my heart race.

The Witches look…crazed. Their expression is overly excited, their gazes fixed on me with an intensity that makes my skin crawl. They’ve hunted for centuries for my power. I can feel it, a tugging sensation. So much so that I begin to wonder.

Are they here to give to Kieran, or to take?

“It is time,” one of the Witches says, her voice a silken whisper of dark promise.

Kallias and Rhodes shift subtly, their bodies tense and ready. Kieran rises from his throne, his movements smooth and deliberate. He removes his shirt, revealing a muscular chest and dark blonde hair that contrasts with his bright blue eyes. He steps into the water, shadows curling around him, making him appear even more dangerous, more otherworldly.

As he approaches, I feel the Witches drawing something from me. My head swims, and I can’t tell if it’s the loss of blood or the loss of magic. I try to speak, to warn Kieran, but my mouth feels sealed shut, the words trapped behind my lips.

Kieran's presence is overwhelming, his eyes glowing like stars in the night sky. He reaches me, his gaze intense, and for a moment, I think he might understand. I press my hand to his chest, our minds connecting, and I project my thoughts to him: The Witches are stealing my power. And yours, too. My sister told me to kill all but one, that your Black Pearl resides–

A bolt of magic, no doubt from the Marisa’s, slams into my skull. I yell out, but no sound escapes. They’ve stopped me from warning Keiran, but maybe I said enough, maybe he’ll turn on them.
The Midnight King’s expression doesn’t change. He still wears the mask of the High King.

Maybe that’s his plan, maybe he won’t kill me.

“Complete the ceremony,” The Witches say as one, and I feel my heart sink.

They’ve shut my mouth so that I can’t speak–are stealing my newfound power.

“Complete the ceremony,” The Witches hiss again. Keiran is keeping his hands to himself far too much for my liking.

Something is wrong. There’s more to this ceremony than they told me.

From the edge of the pool, one of the Witches knocks aside a free standing candle. Flames pool around her, sparking at the edges of her dress, but she doesn’t seem to care. “Might we remind you who will die if you don’t complete your bargain, King?”

A gasp catches in my throat.

The tallest of the three women step forward, her long black hair swinging in the movement. “Take her virginity now, or we will.”

I can’t speak. I can’t breathe.

My eyes glaze over, and tears threaten to spill.

There’s no way Keiran would do this to me. Even a Dark King must have morals.

Again, I attack his mind. The Witches are stealing my power. Your Black Pearl is at–

Another flash of lightning cracks my skull.

Keiran remains cold, impassive, and my heart sinks. I feel the betrayal like a physical blow as he leans in, his fangs descending.

“Trust me, Remi,” he breathes at my neck.

I want to scream at him, attack him, but all I can do is tremble and sob.

How could I ever trust him? How could I ever think this monster was good?

Ignoring my sobs, the Midnight King parts his lips, and bites me

Pain explodes through my neck. My power is dwindling with every sip he takes, and this time, unlike when Xaden bit me, there is no pleasure after the pain.

Keiran moves his hands from my shoulders to my hips. He stops drinking, pulling from my skin just enough to whisper into my ear. “It will be over soon, little doe.” His cock presses into my leg just enough for me to pull back.

“It will be easier if you’re willing. You will save two hundred and fifty thousand souls.”

Monster. Selfish, murderous, monster.

My father was right about him.

“Any day now,” the Marisa’s vocalize.

I’m going to kill them. I’m going to–

“Please Remi,” another voice is speaking over my left shoulder, a warmer, and more familiar one. I instinctively lean in towards Kallias’s body. He presses his bare chest into mine, and the heat warms my soul.

Another bite mark goes off, on my right shoulder. I don’t have to look to know that it’s the cruel bite of Rhodes.

The pain is too much, so I lean more into Kallias. He holds me as I sob.

“I know,” he comforts me, I think he’s crying. “I know, baby girl.”

Keiran kicks my left ankle open, then my right. “Trust me,” he says in a husky voice. Just two nights ago I would have melted for him. But now I’m in so much pain. And I can’t talk.

On my left shoulder, Kallias bites me. I lean into him again, feeling our energies exchange. I’d surrender to him, in a heartbeat, but it’s Keiran who positions me. The cruel, mythic monster.

Maybe I should just surrender. If I die, at least I won’t be a virgin. Maybe I will enjoy it. Maybe I can force myself to enjoy it.

“Go on,” the Marisa’s are at the edge of the pool, on their knees now with their palms extended like their veiled followers. They look Euphoric.

When Keiran takes my virginity, I know it will be over.

“Ready?” Keiran asks, but the question isn’t directed at me, or Kallias, but Rhodes.

Rhodes…

Something is happening.

A flash of movement from beside the throne catches my eye. Then a blade slices.

Three sets of fangs are removed from my skin, then every priestess in the room begins fleeing in terror.

And it’s not Keiran, not Rhodes, not Kallias, but fucking Xaden. Xaden launches themselves at the Witches and stabs two blades right through their throats. 
The Midnight King
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