“Oh my gods,
you must be jesting.” Sofia Viera gripped the armrests of the chair as her heart plummeted into her stomach. Kitty, her feline familiar, pressed against her calves, trying to comfort her. It didn’t work.

“I’m afraid I am not.” Corrier’s voice was grave. Her mentor’s white hair was wild as usual, his robes dusty. “You’ve done very well in the warlock’s apprenticeship—many don’t make it this far. But to complete the transition to warlock, you must become an Oath Breaker.”

“Oath Breaker,” she whispered. A person bound by fate to break any oath or promise they made. A rare curse. Corrier had taught them about Oath Breakers, but he’d never said that warlocks
were
Oath Breakers. To become one…

It would ruin her life. Every promise, every commitment she made would be destroyed—fate and magic would conspire to break them. It was strange, dark magic, but it was infallible. And an Oath Breaker could never love, because love itself was a commitment.

No love. No Malcolm. Her throat tightened unbearably and her hands trembled. She forced down the ragged sob at the thought of all she would lose.

“But why?” she bit out. Her panicked mind scrambled for a way around this. She needed a warlock’s power to break the curse on her village. But if she became an Oath Breaker, she would lose Malcolm.

“A warlock’s power is great. Near that of a god’s. That kind of ability comes at a steep price. You’re a powerful witch. Excuse me, Bruxa,” he corrected himself, using the Portuguese title that her species of witch preferred. “It’s what qualified you for this apprenticeship. But to become a warlock and reach your full potential, you must pay a great price to obtain great magic. Break your most important vow. Become an Oath Breaker.”

She could see the terrible progression so clearly—and the havoc it would wreak on her life. “Why did you not tell me sooner?” she whispered. It seemed like an awful trick.

“It’s a warlock’s greatest secret. If others knew we were Oath Breakers… That’s a terrible weakness. Apprentices are only told once they have become qualified to transition. We guard the secret well.”

She swallowed hard. Of course. By their very nature, warlocks were shrouded in secrecy.

“Does Malcolm know?” she asked. Her heart pounded as a chill spread over her skin.

Corrier frowned. “I haven’t told him because I haven’t had to. His people are sorcerers. Dedicated to this path. He’s known the price since he was a child.”

Horror rose in Sofia’s chest, a dark substance that threatened to strangle her from within. She shook her head. “No. No, he couldn’t have.”

The first bit of sympathy entered Corrier’s eyes. “You’ve become close to him, Sofia. I’m sure he’s told you about his people.”

Tears burned at her eyes and she blinked them back frantically.
Become close to him?
Over the last six months, he’d become her world. They’d shared everything. Or so she’d thought. He’d mentioned his people, a small clan of sorcerers in Southern England who were dedicated to this path, but he’d never mentioned becoming an Oath Breaker. Oath Breaker’s couldn’t love. If they did, only tragedy would ensue.

“You understand that you must end whatever is between you when you transition.” Corrier’s voice was firm. “You remember Laira.”

At the mention of her friend, horrified realization stole Sofia’s breath. Laira had transitioned to warlock two months ago. She’d left the apprenticeship with Oliver, the man she loved and another warlock. Just last week, Corrier had told Sofia of Laira’s death in a battle in the south.

“No.” Sofia shook her head. “Her death was an accident. It had to be. It’s not because she was an Oath Breaker.”

Corrier nodded gravely. “An accident ensured by fate. I couldn’t tell you the details before because you couldn’t be allowed to know of the connection between warlocks and Oath Breakers. But after she transitioned to warlock, she didn’t part with Oliver as she should have. So fate intervened. Oliver was fighting for his people in a battle in Turkey. He mistakenly turned her over to the enemy. It was fate’s way of ensuring they broke their oath of love to one another.”

“I cannot continue the apprenticeship.” She couldn’t believe the words were leaving her mouth. She’d worked so hard for this. But it was clear to her.

“For Malcolm? You know that he might not make the same choice.”

“He will.”
He had to.
Panic threatened to strangle her. She rose from her chair, nearly shaking. “I’m sorry, Corrier, but I—I must go.”

She whirled and ran from the room, Kitty on her heels. The stone-walled corridor of Corrier’s large home flashed by and she sped down the hall. She had to find Malcolm. He couldn’t have known this. He’d fallen in love with her too. These had been the best months of her life. It couldn’t all be falling apart now.

She raced up the stairs and down the hall to Malcolm’s room, then pounded on the door. Her little black cat scratched at the door, mirroring her distress.

No answer.

Outside. He had to be outside.

Without stopping for her cloak, she ran out into the cold Norwegian winter, followed by Kitty. She didn’t even feel the chill as her feet sank into the snow. Normally, she’d be miserable. Her thin Brazilian blood couldn’t take this cold. But now, fear and panic supplanted everything else.

She found him at the frozen waterfall where he practiced his magic. The chill wind whipped his dark hair back from his face as he threw a jet of flame at the ice, melting it.

The sight of him, so tall and handsome, draped in his black cloak, calmed her. Love swelled in her chest. This wasn’t true. He didn’t know about becoming an Oath Breaker. He hadn’t lied to her all this time. He would choose her over magic. Of course he would.

He turned, clearly alerted by her harsh breathing. Concern swept across his beautiful face. The sharp lines, full lips, and golden eyes had become so familiar to her. Beloved.

“Sofia. Are you unwell?” His British accent reminded her of how different he was from her. But that was all right. He would make the same choice she would.

He strode to her and gripped her shoulders in his big hands. He loomed over her, nearly a foot taller than her own five and a half feet.

“I—I heard something terrible.” She sucked in a ragged breath.

He swept his thumb over her cheek and only then did she notice that tears were pouring down her face. She glanced down, trying to get herself together, and caught sight of Kitty, who stared at Malcolm suspiciously. Her squinty eye narrowed even more than usual.

The sight of Kitty’s suspicion sent a streak of fear through her. Kitty normally liked Malcolm. Did her familiar sense the truth? That he’d always known?

“What is it?” His deep voice was rough with concern.

“Oath Breakers.” The words tumbled over her tongue as she looked up to search his face. “Corrier told me we’re supposed to become Oath Breakers to complete the transition to warlock.”

His brow creased, but it was the understanding in his eyes that sent a chill through her. He wasn’t surprised or confused or upset.

“You knew,” she whispered, her voice strangled. “You’ve always known.”

He nodded and her heart felt like it would break her ribs. “You say you love me. Yet you didn’t tell me about this? You’ve continued with the apprenticeship. You know that we can’t become warlocks and stay together, so why continue?” Fear clawed at her, tearing at her heart.

There
was
no reason to continue if he knew what awaited him. If he’d chosen her, he’d have already quit.

“Of course I love you,” he said. The intensity of emotion in his golden gaze calmed her fear a bit.

He did love her. Of course. He’d told her so for the first time in this very place. She wanted to believe it so badly that she clung to his words, though her fear remained.

“But I have to become a warlock,” he said. “You know that.”

She stumbled back, out of his embrace. The cold finally hit her, both inside and out. “You can’t. You know that if you become one, there’s no hope for us.”

As soon as Corrier had told her what she must to do to complete her transition, she’d known she could never become a warlock. She couldn’t give up Malcolm.

“We can make this work.” He reached for her, but she stepped back.

Horrified laughter welled in her breast. “You’re jesting. You know that’s not possible. Corrier told us what happens to Oath Breakers. Love is an oath. Fate will intervene. And Laira?” Her voice rose in panic. “Corrier just told me how she died. That Oliver turned her over in battle. A mistake. One that fate engineered.”

“He was stupid. Weak. I wouldn’t do that.”

She shook her head frantically. He was so stubborn. “Oliver wasn’t stupid. Don’t you see? You won’t have any control. Or I might be the one to do something that destroys you. We cannot control it. You know how powerful fate is. If you love me, you’ll abandon the apprenticeship with me. You promised we would be together. Right here, at this waterfall. You promised.” Her voice broke. She wanted to grab him, shake him.

“And we will. Become a warlock. We’re smart enough to avoid what fate has planned.”

“Can you hear yourself?
Avoid fate
?” He was delusional. He wanted the power of a warlock so badly that he thought he could avoid fate? All Mytheans knew that was impossible. Mortals might not understand, but they also didn’t realize that their myths were real. They didn’t know that fate was an infallible power. But Sofia knew.

BOOK: mythean arcana 07 - witchs fate

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