Enchantment Read Free

and the harder she tried to grasp the memories, the further they slipped away.
    Almost absently, she raised her right arm and ran a finger down the tracery of blue veins just beneath the surface. She raised her wrist to her mouth and bit down, feeling the spurt of blood, tasting the metallic sweetness on her tongue.
    The blood dripped to the ground, crimson against the drab surroundings. Closing her eyes, she opened her mind and began to hum under her breath. The tune came to her naturally when she didn’t fight it. After a minute, she opened her eyes. Where her blood had fallen, a crimson poppy grew out of the dead land. She stroked the softness of the petals as her mind filled with wonder.
    “Witch.” She hadn’t heard the footsteps. Callum studied her, and his expression filled with awe. Crouching down on the sand, he plucked the flower and held it to his nose. “It smells of Arroway.
    My Cass used to grow flowers for me.” He shook his head. “In a few hours you have created more life in this place than I have in a thousand years.” He pointed to something up in the sky. “Look.” Two crimson sickle moons were rising over the horizon, filling the colorless sky with a wash of red reflected in the turbulent sea. “You have power here,” he said.
    “Enough to find us a way out?”
    “Maybe there’s no need. Instead, you could turn this world into a garden, a place where we could be together.” He flashed her a smile. “Will you make me some grass? Real green grass that smells of springtime?” The wound in her wrist was nearly healed, but she squeezed and a few precious drops of blood fell to the bare ground. Closing her eyes, she blanked her mind, humming the song that filled her head.Callum gasped, and she opened her eyes to see a lawn of soft green grass covering the ground all around them. He sank to his knees, his hands burrowing themselves in the lush growth.
    “Thank you.”
    “Tell me what happened.” He glanced at her, his expression wary. “What happened?”
    “All those years ago, with you and Casterix. How did you end up here?” He was silent for a minute, then he shrugged. “You might as well make yourself comfortable. This will take some time.” Shayla shifted so she sat on the soft grass beside him, hugged her knees to her chest, and waited for him to continue.
    “Casterix was younger than me, much younger. I’d given up the idea that I would ever be chosen—most witches preferred a warlock who was of a similar power level, and at that time, I was the strongest around. Though there were a couple of younger warlocks who were close.”
    “Who?” she asked, wanting to understand and hoping the facts would jolt her memory.
    “Malachai and Jarrod. Jarrod was Casterix’s twin brother and showed as much potential as she did. Malachai less so, but he was more driven, more ambitious. Even back then, he had his eyes on the position as head of the Order and the ruthlessness to eliminate anyone who stood in his way.”
    “Malachai—I’ve heard that name. And did you? Stand in his way?” Callum shook his head. “Not at first. In honesty, I had no interest in the Order. I hated their adherence to strict rules and rituals—I was more a ‘go with the flow’ sort of man, and they didn’t like that.”
    “So what happened?”
    “Casterix chose me.”
    “She chose you. For what?” Shayla could feel the frown forming between her brows.
    “Do you know nothing?”
    “Well if I did, I’ve forgotten. So tell me. Please.”
    “Back then, witches and warlocks were natural mates and the witches did the choosing. And the bond they formed was for life.” He hesitated, staring up at the sickle moons still hanging in the sky. “And it now seems that it lingers on even after death.”
    “Go on.”
    “The life of a witch or warlock is usually determined by their power, so like tended to attract like, and a witch would usually choose a warlock of similar power. Casterix was the strongest