My Master (intersex x woman)

Chapter 15 - Blink Twice

The cold air in the Northern Circuit felt like pins and needles against Emily's skin. A few weeks had gone by since the incident with her mother—who revealed herself as the witch—happened. The blonde had been completely mute since then. The queen brought her to many healers, but none of them could undo what Emily's mother had done.

She was completely paralysed.

The two travelled day after day, with no answers or solution to Emily's condition in sight. Eventually, Annabelle was at a loss—retiring them to her home in the North. The queen moved her, carried her, washed her, turned her—did everything that Emily could have possibly needed without complaints. The younger woman had never seen that side of Annabelle, and although it felt great to have the support, she couldn't help the nagging feeling that maybe it was only because of the child that grew larger each day in her womb.

Emily stared glaringly at the window, day in and day out it was left open and she was left there to freeze. She tried motioning with her eyes, grunting didn't work either—nothing did. She was basically an incubator; a tool being used to bring the 'golden child' into the world safely and it made her so angry.

Is it so hard for someone to close the fucking window? She'd thought before rolling her eyes and looking away. It made her angry that everything that happened over the past few months was her mother's doing; that the older woman was in fact still alive and Emily was left to feel the pressure of taking care of both her father and younger brother in vain. It was all a sham, a plot—her mother didn't love her, she couldn't.

She glanced around the large room of the secluded mansion in the north. It was well guarded and discreet. The two women knew it wouldn't make much difference. There was nowhere they could run or hide from the witch.

The blonde could barely see over the bump that grew larger each day. In her estimation, she would be due in two or three weeks. She could hear chatter from below the open window, and wondered what the commotion was about. Emily knew the queen was gathering reinforcements, putting things in place for the inevitable confrontation with the Witch that continued to haunt them. But what Annabelle didn't know—was that witch had a definite plan that would take her out for good.

Emily closed her eyes, her breathing shallow and hushed as tears brimmed. Everything that happened these last few months was all one big sick game. Her being taken, carrying this child, everyone who was changed, hurt or died—it was all set in motion by the woman who raised her, the woman she called mother for nineteen years. It made the blonde sick to her stomach. She thought about Victoria and her heart instantly felt as though it was in a vice. All of that, just to kill Annabelle?

Anger bubbled in the pit of her stomach, and the chilled air sweeping through the open window made it reach higher heights. She was sick of lying-in bed, she was sick of being taken advantage of, she was sick of being a victim, and most of all—she was sick and tired of being pregnant.

The blonde was screaming on the inside, a scream that probably would raise the dead if only it made a sound. Then, as if by some uncontainable force—the glass pane of the window shattered across the room. She was utterly shocked, her eyes blinking wildly, fluttering between the window and the other end of the room where glass lay scattered across the floor.

What the hell just happened?

This was the second occurrence of something unexplainable happening. The first time, Emily thought nothing of it—a coincidence. This time, with her newfound knowledge of her mother being a witch, something occurred to the blonde.

Did I do that? Emily squinted at the thought. She couldn't have. But the blonde was definitely planning on testing that theory.

Annabelle stood on the highest step leading into the Northern castle. Her leather boots looked as menacing as she did, as she begun pacing back and forth. There were about thirty men standing below her, waiting on her orders. Tristan met up with them a few days after the incident. He sworn his fealty to her, knowing that a life with witches roaming the streets—or skies—again would be no life at all.