Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 92232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Once I determine that they are also human, it’s the only way I can relax. A human will never be strong enough to be Kendrick’s match.
If I were a true witch. If I were born of the right bloodline…
I’ve had those thoughts so often, wishing I were born into this and not taught. There once were whispers of one of my ancestors possessing a drop of blood from one of the kings Kendrick comes from.
Supposedly, my great-great-great-great-grandmother stole a drop and drank it. I’ve been going through the scrolls to see if such a thing is possible and if there’s a way for me to find out if their blood still runs through me.
There has to be a way for me to force this bond to happen between us. He loves me, and I love him. I know there’s a way. I know there is because I’ve found one. It’s just too dark for me to try.
But every spell has a counter spell. A light spell that’s the mirror of the dark one. I just need to find it.
“I need time,” I whisper to myself.
“What was that?” my sister asks.
“Nothing, I am thinking. Yes, I know you are only teasing. Let me finish up here. Okay?”
“Okay,” she says, shrugging her shoulders.
I watch her leave the room before I turn my attention back to the parchment before me. The writings are beginning to all look the same and bleed together. I’m starting to feel hopeless.
Yet I can’t give up. I have to find an answer. There has to be a way. I just need to keep digging.
“Forgive me, my love. I do this for us.”
I Can’t
“You will be fine. Annaniah will give you an ointment for this wound. It will heal in a few days,” I tell the young man sitting before me.
He nods and stands, bowing his head. “Thank you, Mistress Venus. May the gods grace you with favor,” he says, his cheeks turning red as his voice cracks.
“May they also be with you,” I reply. “You are welcome, young Jacob. Tell your mother thank you for the bread and jam.”
“I will.” He nods and rushes off.
It’s a busy day at the sanctuary. The villagers are gathered for answers and healing, but I’m exhausted. I’m not as able as I used to be. Keeping up with Kendrick’s insatiable appetite is a task in itself.
I fear he will notice soon. It has been a few weeks since I first noted him sensing something had changed within me. I was certain that evening he was going to speak on it.
I’ve doubled my efforts to find an answer. I’m so much closer to the one I seek. My gut is telling me so. I refuse to give up.
“Why do the days seem longer?” I mutter to myself.
Looking around me, I begin to feel a little light-headed. I hold my hand up, signaling to Yanique that I need a break. She steps out to inform the waiting people.
I am sure the line has only grown with the passing of the day. Many shy away from us—not trusting our methods or fearing the repercussions. The church has been established, denouncing the gods of old.
Soldiers have driven others like myself out of the inner city with threats of burning us. They have yet to come this far with the same threats and beliefs, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t scared the people away from our work.
However, you have those who have known nothing but the love of the gods. They have seen the days when magic heals and the gods replenish. Those are the villagers who come to us for every little thing.
I fear for the days when this will no longer be. Kendrick has warned me repeatedly that the time is drawing near for me to make a choice. My safety or the villagers.
“When did so much change?” I huff, flipping my wrist to open the medicine book on my desk.
Not everything we perform is magic. Most of our methods come from the earth. We are not born witches, so we rely more on what nature provides.
I lift my eyes from the pages to look at the shelves that line the walls. They are filled with books, herbs, and potions. The ones that are safe to display.
The real magic is beneath the sanctuary in the hidden caves. The caves that follow my family. When we move, they move. It is old magic. I’ve always found it so profound for nonblood witches.
“Yes, yes, I was right,” I murmur to myself.
My thoughts have been so scattered. I was supposed to confirm the prognosis I gave during an earlier visit. I needed to reassure myself for the fourth time. Today, I have needed that more than once.
I stumble over to the washing station, placing my hands on the edges of the table. Inhaling deeply, I try to breathe through the fatigue.