Which Witch || Aleksander Morozova

𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓼𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷

Heart Withdrawn

— 

"I want him." Alina's face is twisted into a snarl as she shoves Katerina hard against the dark sand.

She can't see anything but Alina, but she can hear Aleksander lying wounded behind her. Standing up as quickly as she can, she grasps hold of the girl, dragging the two of them away from Aleksander.

"I need him." She insists. Grabbing a fistful of Katerina's hair, she drops her to the ground again.

Exhaustion gnaws at Katerina, and some of the fight leaves her body. If she wants him that much, why shouldn't she have him? Light and dark. No matter what changes, they belong together.

"I need his bones."

Too late, those horrific words register in Katerina's mind. Too late, she sees the knife in Alina's hand.

A cry is ripped from her lips, and as hands seize her from behind, she struggles to fight her way to save Aleksander. "No!" A choked cry leaves her throat, and pain is the only thing she's conscious of for a moment. As she looks down at the red blooming over her chest, Aleksander's pained cry shocks her out of her confusion.

Heaving a startled gasp, the knife slips out of her body, and she crumples to the ground.

Mal steps over her limp form, towards Alina, and she finally understands. Instead of sacrificing him, Alina has chosen to kill Aleksander.

Every moment hurts. The two figures blur, and darkness is closing in on Katerina. But she needs to get to Aleksander. She won't let him die alone. Sand scrapes at her skin, burying itself into her wound.

Then everything goes dark.

Katerina wakes with a gasp, clutching her chest and looking around wildly for Aleksander. It's only after a few panicked moments that she realises he isn't there. That she's in her own room.

She lifts her hands to cover her face, and only then realises that her cheeks are wet with tears. She wipes them quickly away and takes a steadying breath before getting out of bed.

She washes her face quickly, ensuring that any trace of her nightmare is erased before slipping into a green off-shoulder dress, pulling her hair half back into an elegant braided knot and colouring her eyelids and lips softly – anything to conceal the distress that still clutches her chest.

When she opens her door, she nods in greeting to the oprichnik standing guard.

It's only once she reaches for the door handle for the war room that he speaks in a low voice. "The General has company." Maxim warns.

Katerina turns to look at him, unreadable. There's only one person Aleksander is close enough with to share his bed. That person is no longer her. A part of her can't be shocked; this is what she was trying to make happen all along. She harshly shoves away the other part that feels hurt, turning her insides cold.

Nodding in acknowledgement, she assures him. "Thank you, but I'm just going to work on some papers." He opens the door quietly, and a small smile flickers over her face.

As the sun begins to rise, Katerina does her best to focus on the pages in front of her, and not on the two people in the next room. Of Alina in Aleksander's bed. The space beside him, which had become Katerina's since her first night in the Little Palace. She hadn't realised how much it meant to her – how safe it felt – until she could no longer have it.