I stared down at my hands and remembered that dismal place. I’d been alone there—truly, absolutely alone. The emptiness reminded me of what I’d imagined Hell to feel like. My hands curled into fists. Though I’d washed away the Archbishop’s blood, some stains went below the surface.

“Amazing.” Madame Labelle released my arm and slumped backward. “I didn’t believe it possible, but . . . there’s no other explanation. The cord . . . the balance it struck—it all fits. And not only did you see the pattern, you were also able to manipulate it. Unprecedented . . . this is—it’s amazing—” She looked up at me in awe. “Reid, you have magic.”

I opened my mouth to deny it, but closed it again almost immediately. It shouldn’t have been possible. Lou had told me it wasn’t possible. Yet here I was. Tainted. Stained by magic and the death that invariably followed.

We stared at each other for a few tense seconds.

“How?” My voice sounded more desperate than I would’ve liked, but I needed this answer more than I needed my pride. “How could this happen?”

The awe in her eyes flickered out. “I don’t know. It would seem Lou’s imminent death triggered you somehow.” She clasped my hand. “I know this is difficult for you, but this will change everything, Reid. You’re the first, but what if there are others? What if we were wrong about our sons?”

“But there’s no such thing as a male witch.” The words fell flat, unconvincing, even to my own ears.

A sad smile touched her lips. “Yet here you are.”

I looked away, unable to stand the pity in her gaze. I felt sick. More than sick—I felt wronged. My entire life I’d abhorred witches. Hunted them. Killed them. And now—by some cruel twist of fate—I suddenly was one.

The first male witch.

If there was a God, he or she had a shit sense of humor.

“Did she realize?” Madame Labelle’s voice grew quiet. “Morgane?”

“No idea.” I closed my eyes but immediately regretted it. Too many faces rose up to meet me. One in particular. Eyes wide. Frightened. Confused. “The Chasseurs saw me slay the Archbishop.”

“Yes, that is potentially problematic.”

My eyes snapped open, and fresh pain lanced through me. Jagged and sharp. Raw. “Potentially problematic? Jean Luc tried to kill me.”

“And will continue to do so, I’m sure, as will the witches. Many died tonight in their foolish quest for vengeance. None will forget your part in it—especially Morgane.” She sighed and squeezed my hand. “There is also the matter of your father.”

If possible, my heart sank even lower. “What about him?”

“Word will reach him about what happened at the temple. He will soon learn your name . . . and Lou’s.”

“None of this is Lou’s fault—”

“It doesn’t matter whose fault it is. Your wife’s blood has the power to wipe out his entire line. Do you really think any person—let alone a king—would allow such a liability to walk free?”

“But she’s innocent.” My pulse ratcheted upward, pounding in my ears. “He can’t imprison her for Morgane’s crimes—”

“Who said anything about imprisoning her?” She raised her brows and patted my cheek again. This time, I didn’t flinch away. “He’ll want her dead, Reid. Burned, specifically, so not a drop of her blood can be used for Morgane’s foul purpose.”

I stared at her for a long second. Convinced I hadn’t heard her. Convinced she might start laughing, or a feu follet would flare and transport me back to reality. But—no. This was my new reality. Anger erupted inside me, burning away the last of my scruples. “Why the fuck is everyone in this kingdom trying to murder my wife?”

A bubble of laughter escaped Madame Labelle’s lips, but I didn’t think it was funny at all. “What are we going to do? Where are we going to go?”

“You’ll come with me, of course.” Coco stepped out from behind a large pine, grinning in unabashed delight. “Sorry, I was eavesdropping, but I thought you wouldn’t mind, considering . . .” She nodded down to Lou in her arms.

Lou.

Every trace of anger—every doubt, every question, every thought—emptied from my head as blue-green eyes met my own.

She was awake. Awake and staring at me as if she’d never quite seen me before. I stepped forward, panicking, praying that her mind hadn’t been affected. That she remembered me. That God hadn’t played yet another cruel, sick joke—

“Reid,” she said slowly, incredulously, “did you just curse?”

Then she leaned over Coco’s arm and heaved bile all over the forest floor.

La Voisin

Lou

“I’m fine, really.” I repeated the words for the hundredth time, but I wasn’t really sure I was fine at all.

As far as I could tell, the innards of my throat were only being held in by a hideously disfiguring scar, my stomach rolled from my mother’s abominable drug, my legs were numb from disuse, and my mind still reeled from what I’d just overheard.

Reid was here.

And he was a witch.

And—and he’d just said fuck.

Perhaps I’d died after all. That was certainly more plausible than Reid swearing with such delicious proficiency.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” he pressed.

He’d completely ignored the bile spattering the ground in his haste to reach me. Bless him. And Coco—perhaps sensing Reid was a man on the edge—had handed me over willingly enough. I tried not to resent them for treating me like a sack of potatoes. I knew they meant well, but honestly, I was perfectly capable of moving on my own.

Admittedly, my head was spinning at Reid’s sudden proximity, so perhaps it was a good idea for him to carry me, after all. I wrapped my arms more firmly around his neck and breathed him in.

Yes. It was a very good idea. “I’m sure.”

Reid sighed in relief before closing his eyes and letting his forehead drop to mine.

Madame Labelle gave Coco a pointed smile. “Dear, I think I’d like to stretch my legs a bit. Would you mind accompanying me?”

Coco obliged, helping Madame Labelle to her feet. Though Coco supported a good deal of her weight, she still paled at the movement. Reid’s eyes snapped open, and he stepped forward in concern. “I really don’t think you should be walking.”