Natalia closed her eyes in defeat. She was caught. 

Wiping her tears and steeling her nerves, she limped out from behind the tree and faced Darius, who leaned casually against a rocky outcropping, his arms lazily crossed over his chest.

“Oh dear,” he said, his voice holding just the right amount of concern. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“Do not pretend to care for me,” she warned. “I heard everything that the elders said.”

“Obviously,” he replied, gesturing to her bedraggled state. After all, why else would she be running away in the middle of the night? “But you also heard what I said, didn’t you?”

Natalia rolled her eyes. “Don’t start that again.”

“When will you believe that I’m in love with you?”

“When will you stop pretending like you want me for anything other than to bolster your own power?”

Darius uncrossed his arms and approached her. He clearly did not fear her, or else he wouldn’t look so confident. 

“You want honesty, little queen? Are you sure that’s what you truly want?”

“Yes,” she cried.

It was all she’d wanted for years now. Ever since her suspicions had grown. Ever since her steps had been shadowed by elders with whispers on their lips. But she never could have anticipated what Darius would say next.

“The truth is, Natalia Ellwise, that you’re right. It was all a lie. There is no prophecy.”

It was as though time itself had stopped. Shock and disbelief coursed through her all at once. Her ears started ringing, as if she’d been hit in the head. Of course she hadn't trusted the elders, not after their strange behavior these last few years, but she'd never expected this! Never dreamed...

“No,” she choked, fresh tears pooling in her eyes. “It can’t be.”

“This has always been the plan, Natalia,” Darius explained. “Ever since you were born with magic never seen among the witches of our kind. They staged that ceremony of the gods fifteen years ago, just to get away with taking you for themselves.”

“B-but… the other girls—”

“There weren’t really twelve candidates, you beautiful fool.” Darius laughed. It was a cruel sound. “Sure, that was what they told everyone. That the gods were choosing between a pool of young, talented witches to be their queen. Their symbol of peace. But that was a lie, too. They were always going to pick you to be their puppet. You were always meant to be their weapon against the humans that stole our land and forced every last magic wielder into hiding before we were born.”

Natalia’s heart slammed faster and faster in her ribcage. Her mind began to swim, and her legs went weak. She swayed on them. Darius stepped forward and caught her before she fell to the ground again. He cradled her as a lover might, his chin pressed to her forehead, his strong arms wrapped around her frail, exhausted form.

“Listen to me now,” Darius said, softly now, his voice slick with persuasive Blackthorn magic. “We can free each other from the council’s grasp. Their power has grown too great, and their arrogance will get our people killed. We must stop them.”

“H-how?”

“Marry me, Natalia. Stand by my side and help me overthrow them. Our magic combined would be a fearsome thing to behold, and we could liberate the Vulpine clan from their cruel grasp.”

Darius looked her in the eyes, then. His were icy and mesmerizing—like a hypnotic snake’s. Natalia’s body was suddenly feeling heavy and sleepy. His arms were so warm, so comforting. The pain in her ankle was disappearing. 

It feels safe here, his magic told her. You’re safe and loved and wanted and—

“Stop,” she said weakly, shaking her head, pushing limply against him. “Don’t…”

“They’ll only find you again,” he warned, stroking her long, red hair. “They’ll lock you up and siphon every last ounce of mana from your lifeforce and use it however they see fit. You’ll really be a puppet then. You’ll be completely helpless.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Imagine instead a better future,” he continued. “One that we could create together.” His words were weaving a manipulative spell of longing and desire through her mind. She felt herself leaning toward it, imagining the future he spoke of in her mind. “Imagine our beautiful children, Natalia. Imagine all the witch children, powerful and free, roaming the world without fear of persecution at the hands of humans. Those merciless monsters who would see every last one of us burned at the stake.”

Natalia’s magic, against her will, began to mix with his. While hers was bright and powerful, like starlight, his was black and cruel—slippery shadows that prodded and probed into her heart, attempting to coerce her to his side. Attempting to pull a ‘yes’ from her lips.

But she knew this man. All her life, every word that he’d spoken to her had dripped with falsehoods and insincerity. All her life, he had gazed at her like prey, something he could hunt and sink his teeth into. She reminded herself that he didn’t want the things he was promising her.

“You only want more power,” she hissed.

“No, Natalia,” he breathed. “I only want you.”

Then he kissed her. Hard.