Draygon Inferno | Book 2 | ✔️

Chapter Two

          Siobhan faked a smile behind the rim of her mug as she downed more ale. The two girls hadn't shut up from the moment she'd sat down beside the redhead. Their conversation consisted of their travel to Drakewood Inn, their hope of joining the witches together having been friends since birth, and Siobhan couldn't keep up with—or care for—any of it.

"How long have you two been waiting for the Witches to come?" Siobhan figured if all they wanted to do was talk about the hags, at least maybe she could get useful information out of them.

"About a year."

Siobhan choked on her ale when the redhead finished answering. "How on. . ." She released a breath, realizing an outburst would prove she wasn't there to join the witches. People in Drakewood Inn asked few questions, they naturally assumed any woman was there to join the witches and the men were hiding in the last place someone will look. Last thing Siobhan needed was more attention called to her. "A year? Wow. And here I thought a month was a long time."

"Oh that's nothing." The brunette girl waived a hand. "There was one lady who spent most of her life here! Her life force ended before she ever got the call."

Siobhan touched a hand to her chest, feigning a gasp. It was hard to pretend anything related to the hags was shocking. "Do you ever consider leaving?"

The redhead shook her head. "We can't. Ziva was sold to be a slave in the lowlands and my father . . ." She bit her lip and cast her eyes to the table, her cheeks reddening.

"Dayvin's father found her in bed with a woman and instantly betrothed her to a disgusting slob of a man who took more pleasure in beating his women then marrying them." Ziva touched her hand against Dayvin's, her fingers stroking the back of her hand in short glides. The corners of Siobhan's lips twitched, she'd done that move a million times when flirting with someone. It was subtle but often spoke more than words. "Becoming one of the Witches of Drakewood is all we have."

"Because it gives you access to magic?"

"It keeps us together," Ziva said.

The blush on Dayvin's cheeks deepened. Siobhan filled the last of her ale into her mug and leaned back in her chair. She wasn't getting a conquest that night, at least not with either of these girls. Still, after a year at Drakewood Inn the knowledge those girls could provide her would at least make their obnoxious chatter worth it.

"Why do you think they make us wait so long?"

Dayvin shrugged. "To prove our worth. Those without patience could never hope to rise to the favor of the Witches of Drakewood, let alone be worthy of their gift."

Siobhan forced herself not to snort at the admiration in her voice. She always knew the Witches were manipulative, but she marveled at their ability to get people to worship the ground they walk on. There weren't many humans without magic in the highlands, a small village to the east held most of them, but it seemed they were the most gullible in falling for the promise of sisterhood with the Witches of Drakewood.

"How do you think they give people magic who weren't born with magic?" Siobhan knew the girls wouldn't be able to answer, but it was a question she always wondered. With Wren having magic he shouldn't have, that question was looming even more.

"They say they hold ceremonies under the blood moon and the Goddess herself descends to grant power those who are worthy." Ziva brushed a hand through her short hair. "It is truly an honor to be blessed into the ranks of the Witches of Drakewood."

Siobhan closed her eyes so they wouldn't see her roll them. Maybe she wouldn't be so bitter toward the hags if they hadn't made her sit around for a month waiting for the answer of where to find the Dragon's Glass, or told her from the start why Wren had magic, or gave her any answer at all. All while she waited Garrith, the King of the Wyverns, grew stronger. Was that their plan? Maybe they wanted Siobhan to think they were helping her when really they were bidding time for Garrith to rise. Her entire life had apparently been a manipulation at the hands of the hags, and she was sick of it.