The crown makes the royal, the witch makes the ruler.
In a world where they are slandered, belittled, hated, and hunted down, witches are known to be ruthless and despicable. But in secret, they were once the ones making a kingdom rise and fall with...
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 ──────────────;❞ SOUR GRAPES ❝
Another episode of pain rose up in the warlock at the very moment he woke up. The calm and soothing silence was broken by his low groan. Jay's eyes squeezed shut in pain — his shoulder felt like it were on the verge of breaking.
Trying to change his position to just anything at least a little bit close to comfortable, the realisation hit him again.
Her.
It was all her fault.
Unable to move any other way with this iron tied to his wrist, he gave up. She wasn't going to let go of him anyway. He had already come to that conclusion four days ago.
With no other option, he finally opened his eyes to glare at the sleeping culprit who had stolen his comfortable, wonderful, soft, and peaceful bed after twelve years of leaning against curved glass walls.
His sharp gaze reluctantly softened at the sight of the woman asleep. Her black hair was covering half of her face, her lips were slightly parted, and her nose was half buried in the pillow.
She didn't look like she would betray him was the first thing he thought. She didn't look at all like the kind of ruthless traitor who had any desire to be queen, to be in power, to bring everyone to their knees for the sole sake of it.
Yet here she was, claiming to be all that, insisting to need him for all that.
He found his curiosity about her unwillingly growing. This interest of his in her confused him. Perhaps it was just that he couldn't help but indulge his need for knowledge to decipher that which was alien to him. His ambition grew to fill the unwanted void of knowledge that bore her name.
She needed him.
She needed the ruthless, powerful him. A warlock who could control everything if he wanted to.
She needed that him, yet she was with the pathetic him who couldn't even manage to run away when he had the chance to do so. That useless warlock who was on the brink of losing everything that made him who he once was. That weak good-for-nothing who had nothing left in him but his unjustified pride.
He couldn't understand why she'd done it - he couldn't understand anything she'd really done. It was beyond his comprehension why she hadn't left him the moment she'd realised how useless he was.
