talking to her. What do you want with my mate?” I almost shout.
“We’re not after your mate. But she’s in the way of our goal. It’s up to her if she wants to be an ally or a hindrance.”
Without thinking, I leap, ready to tackle the warlock down. But he simply moves faster than I can reach him, appearing on the other side of the room, unfazed.
“Don’t waste your time trying to pick a fight with me, buddy. You’ll lose. Besides, if Aurora agrees to help us, it will benefit you too.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“We can free her of the blood vow she made with Elena Montenegro. But she must agree to our terms.”
I wasn’t born yesterday. I know their terms might not be something Aurora would get on board with. But until she’s free of the deal with the old witch, we can’t be together.
“What terms are those?”
“I can’t tell you. You’ll have to ask her.”
“Then let me through,” I demand.
Declan tilts his head to the side, narrowing his gaze. “Not yet. Ryker needs another minute.”
Aurora
“How did you know?” I ask through the lump lodged in my throat.
“It was careless of you to agree to a blood vow. No sane witch would do it, especially not with the likes of Elena Montenegro,” he says in a reproachful tone instead of answering my question.
The criticism makes my heart feel even tighter in my chest. “What do you know about her?”
“More than you do, clearly.”
“Don’t presume I’m a naïve person. I know Elena is bad news, but…” I trail off, leery of sharing what I saw in the Nightingale mirror with him.
“But what, girl? If you know something, you’d better tell me. You’re way over your head already.”
“Why should I tell you anything? I just met you. I don’t even know your name.”
“The name is Ryker Marx. I’ve been fighting demons and other nightmarish creatures for centuries. If there’s one person you should trust, it’s me.”
“What are you implying? Is Elena Montenegro a demon?”
My heart is thumping so loud in my chest, I’m sure the douche canoe can hear it.
“No, but she’s been after the relic your fiancé’s family possesses for generations. Did you know she bewitched Calvin’s great-grandfather into proposing to her?”
“That’s against the council’s law,” I say, but I’m not surprised she’s done it.
“No kidding. She didn’t care. Her obsession with the first witch’s grimoire trumped everything else.”
I shake my head, having a hard time believing what this guy is telling me is true. “Her fiancé died.”
“Yes, he did.”
Suspicion takes hold of me. “You didn’t kill him, did you?”
He gives me a droll stare. “If we were allowed to kill people, don’t you think we would have eliminated Elena instead?”
Maybe they should have.
“Did you know she has a magical mirror of Nightingale origin?”
My question drops onto the warlock’s head like a bomb. He doesn’t speak for a moment, but his eyes turn rounder and his face blanches. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. She made me look in it.”
“What did you see?”
I close my eyes for a second, not wanting to relive that awful scene, but it’s too late. “A terrible future. King Raphael went mad.”
When I look at the warlock again, he’s so still he could be confused with a statue. Only his eyes seem alive, blazing an electric blue.
“Just like the Boucher family,” he mumbles.
“Yes, just like them.”
He passes his hand over his face, looking rather rattled, which doesn’t help with my anxiety. “The situation is worse than I thought.”
“Why is that?”
“Elena already has the mirror, which was believed to have been destroyed. And now she wants the first grimoire.”
“What’s so terrible about her wanting the grimoire? Any witch would kill to have it.”
“And several have killed for it. The first grimoire contains terrible spells, girlie. Secrets that should never see the light of day. The Belmonts have been entrusted to keep the grimoire safe for centuries. Unfortunately, anyone marrying into the family automatically gains access to it.”
“Elena wants me to steal it when I marry Calvin, which doesn’t make any sense. She wouldn’t be able to read it.”
Well, she seems to believe she can, but I keep that thought to myself. Ryker already thinks I’m a stupid woman, there’s no need to give him more reason to keep believing that.
The warlock’s gaze darkens, matching the frown on his tanned face. “She tricked you into a blood vow. That means your blood is her blood. Once you marry Calvin Belmont, she can do whatever she pleases with the