spellbound | book #1 | completed

X X V I I

[edited: 29/08/2017]

Maksim watched as Remy paced back and forth, almost surprised that his mother hadn't scolded her for scuffing up her carpet yet. He had brought her into the living room as soon as she had told him what Bliviar had said, and called for his mother after making sure that she had not been hurt. Now, all of them—Remy, Maksim, Hilda, and Tykon—were sat with troubled looks on their faces.

"It might have been a lie," Maksim volunteered after a few moments, glancing cautiously at his mother. "They might not really have the mortal girl."

"Sarah," Remy interrupted harshly. "We mortal girls have names, you know."

"I did not think that you even liked her that much." Maksim stood up to face the window, glaring when his mother's cat prowled around his feet as though it wanted something. He still felt uncomfortable after what he had said to Remy before, and she could tell that she did, too, as she hadn't met his eye since she had returned. "You have barely mentioned her since you arrived here."

"I've barely mentioned a lot of things," she spat back, and Maksim did not have to look at her to know that she was angry, though the fear in her voice made her sound less unforgiving and more vulnerable. "I think sometimes you forget that I've lived my life in the mortal world for eighteen years. There are a lot of things I care about, a lot of things you don't know about because all you see me as is a stupid mortal who means nothing."

"That is not true," he hit back fiercely, and finally turned to look at her. Her hair was a tangle of gold and silver after she had ran her hands through it so many times, and her expression was tired and strained so that she looked not at all like she had before she left with Tykon. He wished there was something that he could do or say to rid her of her stress, but instead, he glowered at her until his eyes stung and he had to shut them.

She seemed to relax then, and she slumped against the wall so that her skin reflected its green glimmer. "It doesn't matter if I like her or not," she whispered. "She's my friend and she's innocent in all of this. She shouldn't be dragged into it because of me."

She met Maksim's eyes finally, and his heart fluttered as something unspoken passed between the two of them, something that he recognised in her grey eyes to be despair and exhaustion. She's giving up, he thought with a jolt. She wants to go home. It is too much for her.

He knew, of course, that this had never been her fight in the first place, and that was why he had done everything he could to stop her from getting involved. Still, he didn't like to see her as she was now; she was in a much worse state than she had been in the cells when Ackmard had attacked her, not because she was injured, but because she was blaming herself, and because she was missing a home that Maksim hadn't really considered to exist before, and because now, the Dark Ones were using her emotions against her. He knew how she felt, and wished she didn't have to feel it. She did not deserve to be hurt in a battle that had never been hers to fight.

Before Maksim could respond, the door swung open and Annika stepped in, looking as though she had not just barged in uninvited in the middle of a crisis.

"Annika," Hilda said lightly, clasping her hands together as she ushered the other witch in. "It is nice that you stopped by, but I am afraid now is not a good time."

"Oh dear," she replied, and Maksim noticed Remy cringing from the corner of his eye, most likely at her chirpy tone of voice and how it sounded so inharmonious against the tense atmosphere. "Do I need to send a message to my father?"

Remy ignored her, crossing her arms over her chest with a new sense of determination. Maksim felt almost relieved to see it again. "We don't have time for this. My friend is in danger. We need to give them the key."