The Witch Collector (Witch Walker #1)

by Charissa Weaks

I just need to kidnap the Frost King’s right-hand man first, force him to guide me through the forbidden Frostwater Wood, ambush the kingdom’s guarded castle at Winterhold, kill my enemies, and take back my sister.

Dream big, baby girl.

And if the girl is all Nephele claims, why isn’t her power visible with one glance? I remind myself that Raina has long been a woman, not a girl. A woman whose face lingers in my mind when it has no reason to.

Hasn’t even talked to the girl, and he’s already down bad.

I’ve never seen her cloaked in pure rage. It rolls off her, hot and bright as the fires around us, lighting her up like a virago. A fury among men.

At least the last thing I will ever lay my eyes upon in this long life is a powerful woman of both beauty and fury. A soul delicate yet wild and so deeply moving—even if she does wish me dead.

In another life, I would’ve tried to know her. I would’ve admired her and read her poems written by my own hand. I would’ve walked with her through fields of stardrops, danced with her in the stream. This is not another life.

I am salvation and damnation. There cannot be one without the other.

grief always strikes when we least expect it, and that we rarely realize how those we love inhabit even the most seemingly inconsequential parts of our lives. It’s in those moments that the pain of their absence strikes so much deeper, because the time we took for granted suddenly shines in sharp relief.

Finally, he looks up, and his eyes lock with mine. A moment later, his gaze skims down my body like a touch. “You’re wet. And calm.” He says it like I’m some sort of freakish creature.

“I’m trying to be gentle-mannered,” he says, “but sometimes a rough hand is best.”

“My name is Alexus. Alexus Thibault. Not Witch Collector.”

“How do you feel, Raina? Listen to your misery. Listen to your rage. If you’re angry, let it boil. If you’re heartbroken, let your heart shatter.” His lips graze my ear, sending a rogue chill down my spine. “And if you hate, hate with the fire of a thousand suns.”

Alexus’s smile brightens, and a dimple dips deeply into his left cheek, unobscured by his beard. I bite my lip and silently damn him, because that smile is a lovely sight that I want to hate but somehow can’t.

Again, he smiles, and it’s irritating how devastating it is, even with a busted lip. His lone dimple makes an appearance, too, making matters even worse. It’s hard to despise someone who lights up the world when they smile. Damn him to the Nether Reaches.

Lowering my hands, I notice that Alexus’s eyes are fixed on me, unblinking, as if I’ve bewitched him. His lashes flutter, and he clears his throat. “What?” I slip my hands back to the warmth under my arms. “Nothing,” he replies with a small shake of his head. “Your magick is just really beautiful.”

I helped Finn numerous times, back before I realized that he could harvest fire threads well enough without my aid. He only wanted an excuse to be close to me, and it worked. He never offered to teach me anything. “Not a skill, and I cannot see them,” I clarify. “I only know what is necessary to do so.” “Or you think you do,” he replies, one brow still raised. “I fear you might’ve had an inadequate experience.”

His hands are big and calloused, scarred in the way of a swordsman, strong and warm in ways I shouldn’t be thinking about.

He trails his fingertips along my jaw. “It would be best if you didn’t look at me like that.” I lean closer and lick my lips. “Like what?” He gives me a piercing look. “Like you want me to kiss you. Because I will.”

“There is darkness inside me too,” I sign. “Perhaps our darknesses can be friends.”

Raina looks up at me, her beautifully marked torso painted in blood. Her glassy eyes are wide and hard, a crimson-slicked knife in one hand, a dead crow pressed beneath the other. Gods. Virago, indeed. And yet, I’m still stupidly aroused. Maybe more so.

When she still hesitates, I drop to my knee, surrendering before her. “You were ready to trust me with your body, Raina. Trust me with this.”

Alexus Thibault is Un Drallag. The sorcerer who forged the God Knife. An Eastlander from the Tribe of Ghent. A three-hundred-year-old man.

“You should be my enemy,” I sign. He’s an Eastlander. They’ve taken so much from Tiressia. So much from me. “Yes. If birthplace decides who is good and who is not, then you should hate me.”

“Don’t look at me like I’m some freak of nature.” “You are a freak of nature.” His stare goes dark and cold. “No. I am Tiressia’s salvation and damnation, though I have never wanted to be either. I keep Neri bound so that he cannot wreak havoc on the Northlands or any other part of this empire. Three centuries ago, I stumbled out of the Shadow World with a shattered heart, fighting a godsdamn deity who used me to escape his eternal punishment and was ready to tear down the world.” His eyes gleam in the firelight. “And I won. A little thanks might be in order.”

“Raina Bloodgood, your mouth will be my ruin.”

“If this was a favor,” I whisper, “Don’t help me ever again.”

The general thrusts his chin at two of his warriors. “Must I tell you every time? Weapons. Hold her. And somebody check the cave.”

War makes devils of people who would’ve never been devils otherwise, but they were devils to my village all the same.

But nothing is as it was supposed to be. The world feels turned upside down. I meant to kidnap the Witch Collector, not kiss him. And I meant to kill the Frost King, not save him. And yet, here we are.

Neri cuts his eyes at me again. It’s impossible to look away from his snarling, wolfish face. “Tell him that I did save you.” He growls behind the words. “Tell him that if not for the great God of the North, he would have lost you on the road south. Tell him that if not for Neri’s mercy, you would be nothing more than a bloody stain in the snow. Tell him that I will not save you forever. You can both rot in earthen graves for all I care. The White Wolf’s debt is paid. Do not summon me.”

“Well, fuck all. We’re balls deep in trouble now.”

Colden clears his throat. “This is a truly lovely reunion, but I’m fairly certain that the battle for the end of Tiressia is happening just up the way. So if you ladies would care to join me, we still have a fight on our hands.”

Gods. I still don’t know how it’s possible that Alexus Thibault is here, alive, but my blood sings for him.

He gives Alexus a sharp glare. “All because he wanted to save the little witch from Silver Hollow who’s caught his ancient eye. You set a god free for a woman you hardly know.”

“That’s what you want?” He leans in, his breath warm against my mouth. “To know what it is to be mine?” I close my eyes and clench my teeth, nodding, finding steadiness in his hold and against the solidity of his body as he flutters kisses across my jaw. He takes my chin in his hand. “Will you let me show you?”

There is no love without fear.

“Want.” I press that word into the skin over his heart. Alexus Thibault pulls away from my mouth and says the three words that are my undoing. “Then take me.”

“And I thought your mouth would be my ruin.” Breathing hard, he shuts his eyes for the span of a heartbeat, and then stares into my eyes. “I might not survive this.”

This is worship. Alexus Thibault has lain me on his altar and praised every inch of me.

“You cannot keep kissing me like that, or we might never leave this place,” I sign, throwing his words from the wood back at him. A gorgeous, heart-stopping smile unfurls across his face. “Well, you see, that,” he says against my lips, “is what it is to be mine, and I intend to show you several more times tonight if that’s all right.”

If my life is cut short, I will die happy because I had this time with you. But I will fight for more. I will fight for Colden. And I will fight for us.

Most battles are hard-fought. Something must always be lost if you’re ever to gain. Don’t fear this. You will never move forward if you never leave things behind.

I don’t want to leave Finn behind. He’s been my dearest friend, such an enormous part of my life. But he will not suffer me being with Alexus in any manner. It’s one thing for him to see me living my life alone. It will be a wholly different circumstance for him to see me with someone other than him.

Finn can freeze in a ditch for this attitude.