Wild Magic Three: The Shade of the Earth- a M/M fantasy shifter romance

26- The Witch and the Shifter

*****If you've read By the Light of the Moon, then you're welcome for this chapter 😘*****

ROBERT—

"That's a wild mage," I whispered, nodding when both Dasan and Nibley's eyes flicked to mine. "I don't know how I know, but that panther—"

"I feel it too," Lhiam cut in, nodding and latching onto the reins of his stallion in a white-knuckled grip.

"Guess we should'a brought Sami or Edon, huh?" I joked lamely, and Lhiam huffed out an agreed chuff.

"Is there anyone still alive in there? Any hostages?" Prince Lhiam called to the witch and the shifter, his voice firm but purposely calm. Not aggressive in tone or wording.

"Most of the women and children were set free," the witch answered nonchalantly.

"Most?" Lhiam asked, trepidation in his voice.

"All of the children. I'm not a complete monster." The man's tone was familiar, calm, as if he were talking about the weather or teatime rather than the massacre of an entire town. "But some of the women had been very evil in their dealings with those they deemed lesser. I promised my mate vengeance, and that included some of those of the weaker sex."

"Is anyone alive within the walls of the castle?"

"Define alive," the witch called back, a smirk in his voice, and I felt a chill down my spine at what the women he had deemed worthy of his vengeance were now enduring. The panther at his feet stood, its tail flicking back and forth as it sniffed the air.

Then the panther was gone, replaced by a man around Edon's age, maybe younger, his hair long and hanging lankly down his back in thick lumps of matted hair. His ribs protruded, his belly pressing nearly against his spine, and his body was covered in scars. His prick hung flaccid and tilted, and it took me a moment to realize why it looked crooked.

He only had one testicle.

The shifter made hand gestures, flowing out to us, then back in again, and the witch's brows rose as he yelled out what looked like some kind of... translation?

"You two," the witch called, his eyes flicking from me to Lhiam and back again. "You are the mates of wild mages. Where are your mates?"

"Our mates don't concern you," Lhiam called back. Then, "What do you want here? Why have you come? Why have you committed this massacre?"

"You are Prince Lhiam of Teren," the witch called, moving a few steps forward, followed closely by the shifter. The witch paused just long enough to rid himself of his thick cloak and throw it over the shifter's shoulders before he continued his graceful, haunting steps through the rubble. The gesture was almost sweet, caring, if it wasn't done in the midst of a ruined castle where evil hung in the air like a miasma. "I am Harkyn of Arcandi, spirit witch and mate to Asa of Teren. My little mate has been a sex slave of Governor Andyr since he was far too young. I'm neither a kind nor a merciful man, especially when it comes to what is mine."

"That isn't possible," Lhiam called back, his hand on his sword, his horse chittering nervously as the two men approached slowly, menacingly. The rubble beneath their feet seemed to rumble and shake with every step and I prayed it was only my imagination and fear making them seem more terrifying. "Slavery has been outlawed for nearly 18 years!"

The witch laughed, the sound grating and making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

"I assure you, he bears the mental and physical scars of his torment. See for yourself."

The witch waved his hand, and flashes of visions, like a grip of deja vu, made my body liquid and shaking as if there was an earthquake beneath me.

Visions of whippings, rapes, years of servitude and torture. The broken mind of a wild mage not allowed to shift into his beastial form due to a magic binding collar around his neck. I couldn't even imagine what it would do to Sami to not be allowed to shift for even a day, much less most of his life. It was such a part of who he was, I knew it would change him, harm him, irrevocably.

What would it have done to the poor young man who was even now watching us all with glazed, shattered eyes, to have his panther bound for years? The majority of his life?

"I'm sorry this befell your mate. You're correct that it was wrong, and justice would have been served on the governor. But vengeance is not justice and vengeance is the wrong way to go about—"

Something caught Lhiam's eyes, cutting off his words completely. He stared at one of the men who hung above the road, three down. The man was perhaps 50, with a fat belly that hung over a gold belt. Piss and shit ran down his leg, his insides were held in his limp arms, and his mouth moved as if he were silently begging for mercy.

But mercy was something I did not see in Lhiam's eyes. In fact, I had never seen Lhiam look so filled with merciless rage. And it was directed not at the witch, but at the man who hung, holding his intestines in his arms, his heart hanging out through his visible ribs, his neck crooked with the bone broken through the skin. The man looked as if something had exploded inside of him, ripping him apart but keeping him mostly intact by little bits.

"Your highness?" Dasan asked, making Lhiam flinch and stare back at us, his eyes so distraught it was as if he was looking through us.

"That's... that man— that's Edon's Mas— I bought Edon from that man. I rescued Edon from that..."

Dasan's jaw clenched and Nibley flinched, and I immediately understood. None of us knew the details, but the abuse Edon had suffered at the hands of men before Lhiam had found him and freed him was known by a select few, and we knew he'd had a cruel man he called Master who had beaten and sold his body against his will, to other evil men, for years.

The witch looked from Lhiam to the man, then back to Lhiam again before he broke out into nearly manic, heartless laughter.

"What self-righteous bullshit were you spouting, about vengeance not being the right way, your highness?" he mocked. "You can't tell me you don't love the sight of that man hung up, in absolute agony, in retribution for what he did to your mate. You can't lie to me, and tell me you haven't looked back and wished you had done this after you found your mate— that you haven't spent every day wishing you hadn't let him go without punishment. Now here he is, hung up for your viewing pleasure. It's too bad your mate isn't here to see it, too.

"Each one of these men deserves this, and so much more. The men and women inside deserve no less. I did your kingdom a favor by ridding it of this sadistic, rapist filth. You should be thanking me."

"They should... should have had a trial," Lhiam began weakly, his eyes never leaving the hanging man.

"I held a trial. I looked into my mate's past, I saw the evils inflicted on him, and I found them guilty. I meted our their verdicts. The result is what you see here."

"So now what?" Dasan's thick, rough voice called, picking up where Lhiam seemed unable to continue. "Is your vengeance complete, or will you continue to massacre anyone you deem worthy of punishment?"

"I'm favorable to the second option, myself," the witch joked, but the man at his side grunted, the sound strange, a breath of air rather than the sound of a voice, and the witch smirked ruefully. "But we're done for now. My mate wishes to rest and explore his freedom. My only problem now is that I don't want to be followed. See, if I leave your little troupe of men alive, my mate and I won't be able to rest, for surely you'll come after us. So, while all of you are innocent, and would have been free of my vengeance, you're now a threat to my mate, and thus your lives are forfeit. I promise to make your deaths as painless as I'm able. As I said, I'm not a complete monster."