𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞

PROLOGUE

"A gifted fool indeed." Princess Harriet remarked.

Prince Harold closed his eyes both in pain and pity for the girl.

"My great grandparents are Cecily and Hendrick Belhovenor. I'm a direct descended of the Aries witch coven and I know what you are, you're blood reapers." she repeated, possibly hoping to incite fear or reverence in her captors.

Prince Harold groaned, he wished he could help shut her up but his siblings urgently stuffed his open ribcage wound. With more methanol dipped cloths thinking it was the pain from the mysterious animal bite on the side of his rib making him groan.

The sophisticated Queen widened her sterling blue eyes in the line of direction to her equally stunned husband. "An Aries witch in the Royal Palace. Did you hear that my Lord." she marvelled with raised eyebrows and growing interest.

Ernest, The Crown Prince who was now beside the family's wounded treasured jewel whistled his joy, "Oh dear, she's so clearly poorly bred."

The emotionless Princess Harriet wore a look of hope on her face that was visible to everyone in the palace. "...or perhaps just a poor student, you should relate dear brother."

The Crown Prince cast her a wicked glance, then winked.

"Can you prove it?" the King's stone cold voice boomed from his throne.

The young maiden shed more tears nodding. It was clear she was just pitifully realizing her revelation hadn't worked in her favour as well as she had hoped.

"Well?" Prince Antony the middle child prodded the maiden to make haste. His obsidian strong voice, serious demeanour and entire rigid semantics resonated very deeply with the King. By all standards either he the educated and actively involved sibling or the first born Crown Prince Ernest Sinclair should have been the King's favourite son. But for some reason it was the troublesome and forever lovesick Prince Harold who was King Sinclair's favourite son. "Prove it!" Prince Antony pressed, his tone boring no room for hesitance.

"That" she nodded to the Young Prince's fatal wound. "...is a wound from the bite of a Helga."

"Is there a reason you're telling us something even scullery maids already know?

Her voice waivered "Helgaz never bite unprovoked, or without arousal... but when they do bite. It's especially fatal for blood reapers as I'm sure you're all aware..."

Prince Antony raised his chin, "Do you harness the magic to retain your Prince's immortality? You are of the Aries Coven aren't you?"

"I must know how he got bit first?" Her look crossed over to where Prince Harold was lying in a steam of his own blood. "Was the Helga provoked in violence or...or caressed into arousal?"

"You either harness the magic or not you little red haired witch. But it you must know, he doesn't remember anything. One moment he was appreciating the woods and the next he was screaming on the earth bitten by a wild Helga." Princess Harriet lifted to her feet, voice raising so loud tendrils of her hair danced in the air. "So, as my brother asked. Do you harness the power?" 

The virgin witch nodded, sniffing away her tears. 

Her hands were freed from the strains of chains upon request and approval. She took tentative steps towards the dying Prince and took his pale cold hands in her trembling ones. The second their skin touched she took a long soundly gasp. Her eyes rolled back into her sockets, face tilting upwards already making her way into the Prince's mind. Harold, the Prince protested refusing with his mind. 

The virgin forced her shaky way into his mind anyway.

Soon he started convulsing with seizures but so did she and even when everyone tried to pry them apart from each other it seemed their hands were glued together. Until she dragged out an ice sharp scream throughout the Palace. Tearing up the glass décor of the court and fell to the floor like a rag doll, hands finally disconnected.