YOU WERE MINE FIRST

Witch’s Cage

CHAPTER 12: Witch's Cage

I woke to screaming. Female. Young. Panicked. From below, kitchens maybe, echoing up through broken doors.

And Rhazien was gone.

Cold slapped me. The furnace under my cheek, the chest that hammered slow under my ear all night, the huge hand that stroked my white ears till I purred to sleep, gone. Furs still warm, dent in pillow, his scent snow and smoke and King thick in them, but body gone.

Panic shot so fast white light flared in my eyes, lighting ruined bedroom silver. "Rhazien?" My voice cracked, hoarse. Small human voice. Not Queen.

Lyra surged awake. _He is downstairs. He is angry. Not at us. Old blood. Witch blood._

Witch blood. Cain's second problem. Moon Coven sent a hawk. 'You have something that was caged. Return it or we will unbury our dead.' They knew my name. They put iron around my soul when I was three days old.

White ears flattened till they hurt. Tail tucked tight. Claws pricked furs. Screaming downstairs cut off. Like a hand over mouth.

Then boots. Many. Armor clanking fast up stairs. And under armor, soft bare feet dragging.

I sat up, furs falling, throat glowing gold-white, white hair wild, more white now. Still in nothing but fur throw and his scent. Grabbed his huge black shirt from floor, pulled it over head. Swallowed me to mid thigh.

Doors exploded again, pushing dresser three feet. Cain filled doorway. No armor, black shirt half buttoned, brown hair messy, scar white, gold eyes black-ringed with fury, claws out, blood on knuckles, not his. Behind him four Royal Guards, swords down, pointed at something they dragged.

Small. Female. Cain's eyes found me glowing in bed, ears flat, eyes wide, and his furious face cracked into relief.

"My Queen, you are awake. Good. I told him not to leave you alone but he-"

"Where is he? Why screaming? Why blood?"

"My King is in courtyard. With outer ward witch. One invited once by old King, his father, and wards remember invitations if not revoked. She came over north wall at dawn, kitchen girl Linna saw her and screamed because her face was wrong. Like wax melting. Glamour failing because she crossed boundary without permission. She said she came to collect caged property for Moon Coven. Said your name. Said you belong to Coven by blood contract signed by mother before you were born. Said if we don't give you back by moonrise they will wake the iron they put around your wolf when you were three days old."

Lyra roared inside, huge and furious, spine arching off bed, white light exploding, guards flinching.

_LIARS. THEY PUT IRON AROUND ME WHEN I WAS THREE DAYS OLD BECAUSE THEY FEARED WHAT I WOULD BECOME. THEY SOLD MY MOTHER'S CONTRACT TO ALPHAS FOR SILVER BECAUSE ALPHAS FEARED WHITE QUEENS WOULD MAKE THEM KNEEL. THEY CAGED ME EIGHTEEN YEARS AND CALLED HER DEFECT WHILE THEY COLLECTED PAYMENT._

Guards dropped to one knee. Thing on floor gurgled. I looked down properly.

Witch. Young, maybe twenty five, black hair matted with snow and blood, grey robes torn, bare feet blue, face wrong like wax melting, one eye gold, other black pit, mouth sewn shut with silver thread now torn open, bleeding, because she spoke True Name on King's mountain and wards ripped mouth.

She crawled toward bed, nails black, leaving bloody trails, whispering, "Elara... Finch... property... of Coven... by contract... of Mara Finch..."

My mother's name. Mara Finch. Who traded my debt contract and said at least you'll be useful.

White ears vanished into hair. Tail tucked till I couldn't breathe. Tears silver-white hot spilling, sizzling on furs.

"Mara... traded me... twice?"

Cain's fists clenched. "Your mother signed blood contract with Moon Coven twenty years ago when pregnant. Coven said you were special pup, would pay few crowns a year to put protection spell to hide you from Alphas who kill white pups. She signed in blood. Protection was iron cage. They paid every year on your birthday. My spies found ledger in Blood Stone after flower boy left. Small payment for eighteen years to keep daughter wolfless while waiting for first heat to take you and trade your womb to highest bidder. She didn't trade you twice, My Queen. She rented you."

A few crowns a year to keep me nothing. While I scrubbed pots and slept on kitchen floor.

Sob tore out, ugly and raw, eyes blazing brighter, claws tearing furs.

Witch heard sob and laughed, thinking Queen weak, reaching for bare ankle. "Property... womb... white queen womb makes Lycan Kings immortal... vampires pay gold..."

Lyra didn't wait. Cold rushed like frozen lake, perfect. Back arched, throat exposed, ears pricked, tail puffing huge, white fur sprouting over shirt, claws sharp as glass, fangs dropping, white light exploding so bright whole bedroom lit like second moon.

Cain dropped to both knees, forehead near floor, whispering, "My Queen..."

I stood on bed, shirt barely covering thighs, hair fully white now, glowing, ears huge tipped silver, tail fluffy lashing, eyes like captured moons.

"You put iron around my soul when I was three days old," Lyra said through my mouth, echoing like wind through dead temple, making dead fire relight white in fireplace. "You told my mother small payment was protection. You put cage around White Queen pup and left her to scrub floors while you collected silver."

Witch writhed, gold eye wide, as white light burned glamour, showing true face, old, hag, teeth black.

"Blood contract needs blood of signer," Lyra said, stepping down, bare feet melting snow, leaving glowing footprints, walking toward witch crawling backward. "Mara's blood is in my pup. My pup's blood is mine. You want contract? Take blood."

She crouched, ears forward, eyes inches from witch's face, white claws touching cheek. Witch screamed as white fire spread, not burning skin, burning contract inked in soul.

"Tell your sisters, White Queen is awake. Iron is broken. Cage is open. And I remember every name. Tell Hecate Moonwhisper I remember her face from night she put iron around me while I was three days old. Tell her I am coming."

Fire snapped and witch flew across room, slamming into wall, cracking stone, sliding down unconscious, smoking, handprint glowing white on cheek like moon brand.

Silence. Guards kneeling, shoulders shaking. I swayed, light flickering, knees buckling because Lyra used too much.

Before I hit marble, huge arms caught me from behind, hot as furnace, snow and smoke and King. Rhazien. Back. Bare chest, black pants, boots snow covered, hair wet, gold-white eyes black with fury and awe, because he felt Lyra fully forward through bond and ran whole castle.

"Elara," he breathed, hands cupping face, pulling to chest, forehead to mine. "Little debt, what did she tell you?"

Lyra curled back, leaving me shaking, human, tears falling, hair fading back to streaked brown.

"A small payment," I whispered into his chest, claws pricking. "My mother... few crowns a year... to keep me wolfless... she rented me..."

Rhazien went still. Too still. Before avalanche. Eyes went black. No ring. Just beast.

He breathed out slow, and air froze, frost forming on broken windows.

"Cain," he said, voice quiet, terrible. "Take that thing to dungeon. Keep breathing. Keep handprint glowing so Coven can see through its eyes what Queen did. Send hawk to Blood Stone. Tell Mara Finch and Tomas Finch their daughter wants to see them. Tell them White Queen requests parents who traded her for few crowns a year for eighteen years. If they don't come by moonrise, I will drag them and let my Luna decide if she keeps their voices."

Cain stood, gold eyes black with same fury. "And if they run, My King?"

Rhazien looked down at me, tear-streaked face, ears flat, tail tucked, huge mark on throat, and eyes softened just for me, hand cupping head, shielding.

"If they run, I will hunt them myself. And bring them back alive and let my Queen unmake them slowly, the way they unmade her childhood."

He lifted me like doll made of snow someone tried to trade for few crowns, sat with me in lap on huge bed, arms around me, chin on head, purr starting low and furious and protective, vibrating into shaking body.

Far below, Mara Finch sneezed as cold wind blew through kitchen window she never fixed, and few crowns hidden under floorboard she never gave me because she spent on Tanya's red dress turned to ash, white ash smelling like snow and Queen.

Far south, in Moon Coven tower of black glass and bone, old witch Hecate Moonwhisper woke from light sleep with handprint burning white-hot on her own cheek, mirror brand, and screamed as white fire burned glamour showing true face, hag, and whispered one word through bleeding mouth, "Lyra."