Rebel Witch (The Crimson Moth, #2)

by Kristen Ciccarelli

She wasn’t sure what was more upsetting: that Alex had loved her, or that Gideon didn’t.

“We both know what you want to do to me, Gideon. Well, here’s your chance.” His gaze slid to her mouth. “You have no idea, the things I want to do to you.”

“You want the truth?” Her own hurt bubbled up, like steam from a volcano ready to erupt. “This is the truth: I would have married you in a heartbeat, had you asked me. I would have married you knowing you would hand me over to my killers—or kill me yourself—the moment you found out what I was. That’s how pathetic I am, Gideon! That’s how desperately I wanted to be yours!”

If this was weakness, he wanted to be weak. If this was sin, let him be damned to hell.

“Merciful Ancients,” Gideon whispered, his heart squeezing painfully. Rune was the missing heir.

RUNE IS THE MISSING heir. The adopted granddaughter of Kestrel Winters was a Roseblood princess. Daughter to Queen Winoa. Half sister to Cressida. Heir to the Roseblood throne. And no one knew.

“You are far worse than a thorn in my side,” he said, his dark eyes gleaming at her. “You are a knife in my heart.”

Rune’s anger ignited. She lifted her chin. “I suppose I should thank you. If not for your curse, I wouldn’t have irrefutable proof that he loves me.”

Gideon reminded himself that his entire family was dead, and that he was simply joining them. I’m not afraid to die.

“It might look like weakness on the surface. But in truth, it’s tougher than steel. Love can’t be controlled. Love can’t obey unjust laws. Love will always oppose tyrants.”

“You are the kindest, cleverest, bravest girl I’ve ever met.” He kissed more and more scars, tracing them gently with his mouth. “These scars are only further proof of that.” No pain flared. He was touching her without consequence. His curse was broken—and here was the cost: Rune in pain; her courage in tatters.

“Because I was stupid enough to fall in love with a witch hunter. Stupid enough to hope he might love me back. And if he did, I wasn’t going to let anything come between us again.”

She had to jump, or she’d be left behind. The dogs snapped at her heels. Bullets whizzed past her head. She should give in. Give up. It was useless to try. No. Something sparked inside her. An old feeling. A familiar feeling. Like she was back in the midst of a heist, outwitting a certain Blood Guard captain, risking everything for the possibility of saving one more witch from the purge. She’d forgotten the thrill of it. How it made her feel untouchable. Invincible. I am the Crimson Moth. It was the answer to her oldest question. You are the kindest, cleverest, bravest girl I’ve ever met. This was Rune Winters. This girl. In this moment.

“The Ancient found Althea lying in a pool of her own blood, her body as cold as the stones beneath her. Realizing her advice had caused a terrible tragedy, Wisdom bound herself in human form to Cascadia, until she corrected her error. Only then would she rejoin her sisters in the world beyond this one.”

Tearing his eyes from Cressida, Gideon fixed them on Rune. Placing her hand over his heart, she said, “I want you to know I am so grateful, so lucky, to have loved you.” Her voice wobbled. “Even if it was only for a little while.” Gideon’s jaw clenched. “What are—” Rune shook her head. The tears prickling her eyes made the sight of him blur. “If I have to die, I want to die like this.” Rune took his hand and wrapped it around the pistol as she pressed the barrel against her heart. “Right here. With you.”

“I love you,” he whispered into her hair. “I should have told you so much sooner. I love you, Rune Winters.” Death was pressing in. As its shadow slid over Rune, Antonio’s words echoed inside her: Sometimes our paths must diverge from those we love. But if love is the highest power, our paths will converge again—if not in this world, then the next. Pressing her hand to Gideon’s heart, Rune whispered: “Come find me in the next world.” And then Death found her.

Even in death, my love, you are a wonder.

“Little queen,” laughed Seraphine, “I am incorruptible.” Cressida frowned, her gaze flickering over Seraphine’s face. “My name is Wisdom.” Her voice rang like a drawn blade. “And I’ve waited a long time for this.”