I was Kidnapped for Revenge by a Ruthless Alpha-Chapter 199: The Spell

~Narrator~

"You expect me to stay here." Ezelreth asked in disbelief.

"I apologize for its outward appearance, but the inside is nicer." The young witch whispered.

"Go." Ezelreth waved her on impatiently.

The night was mundane, uneventful and seemed to drag on.

While Ezelreth was bored out of his mind, the witches were in their craft room working on the spell.

"Ggessul Root is better than Greevus Root." The Crone argued.

"That’s old-school magic, grandma, it’s weak. Greevus when ground into a fine powder and mixed with iodized sulfate crystals it’s stronger. The Maiden defended.

"She’s right. Greevus and sulfate is proven to be more reliable as well." The Mother put an end to the debate and continued with her character research. Finding ancient blood magic like this and adapting to the match the strength of a god was no easy task. Back when Sirens still dominated the sea’s and fae still flew in the skies and owned the mountains, ingredients for ancient magic were easier to come by, rare, but still accessible.

Now ingredients related to the old ways were more expensive than murder.

But for this coven, the necessary ingredients weren’t hard to acquire, they’d been preparing for this war, this chance, this deal, for generations.

They had spells for battles for protection, but they didn’t plan for a blood pact and now they had less than 24 hours to be prepared for a spell that would start at 10 pm tomorrow night.

The bickering continued all night and into the morning.

"Morningshade, where is that?" The Crone groaned.

"It’s in the herb closet." The Maiden answered.

"I’m in the herb closet. It’s not here."

"Yes, it is, look harder."

"You rude girl, no respect for your elders." The Crone scoffed.

She came out holding the dried flower.

"Oh, so it was definitely not in the herb closet. Got it." The Maiden snorted sarcastically.

She ground red salt from the red sea and bloodstone for the chalk.

"Figured it out!" The mother shouted triumphantly.

"Figured what out? The spell? You’re still writing it?" The Maiden asked.

"Blood pacts with gods aren’t something they cover in basic witch class, Maiden." The Mother mocked.

"Fair." The Maiden agreed "I finished the chalk, and The Crone is almost done with the binding potion. I also located the athame with the bone handle and obsidian blade."

"Good. We’ll be ready."

The witches finished up their spell and as night grew closer, the darkness settled around the coven, streetlights lit up, illuminating the paths they would travel on.

The witches began to prep for the ceremony, wandering into the deep of the woods The Maiden drew her magic circle with the special chalk. The Mother had copies of the incantation and The Crone had the potion they would drip on the athame.

Ezelreth and the shifters arrived promptly at their discussed time. Not a minute early or a minute late.

"Punctual." The Maiden mentions.

The witches took their positions outside the circle and began chanting in a dark, familiar language.

The old tongue. The language of the gods. It hummed around him like a memorable moment.

The air became charged with magic and a shield rippled upward surrounding them in dome. The circle The Maiden drew in chalked began to emit a bright glowing red light.

The witches held hands and stepped into the circle. Their chanting not stopping.

Ezelreth just stood as he was directed and observed, analyzing their every word and every move, checking for any signs of a double crossing. The Crone pulled out a knife and a vial murky orange liquid, pouring it on to the knife. They dropped their hands and The Crone took The Maiden’s hand in hers, cutting her from pinky to thumb, across her palm. And then again on the other side, making an X on her palm. The Maiden turned to The Mother and repeated the action, and again from The Mother to The Crone. Their attention shifted to Ezelreth standing in Violet’s body and took her slender hand in their bloodied cut one, same with holding the knife. The three of them held her hand and cut into her palm. For a short while the cut remained open.

"Now each time you hold our hands you will grant us immortality to seal the bond I will chant my chant, and you will say "By blood and by bone, they are bound."

He nodded, he didn’t tell them it would be a bite and them drinking his blood. He wanted it to be a surprise. The thought amused him.

The Maiden stepped forward first, she offered her hand and he took it with Violet’s danty cut hand, He pulled her in clothes her body pressed against Violets. And before the girl could blink, Ezelreth drove Violet’s fangs into the girl’s neck. And drank from her, she after The Maiden cried out, the piercing pain, her breath hitched, when he released her she said "By blood and by soul, the coven is bound." Before he let her go entirely he punctured Violet’s wrist with his nails and forced it to The Maidens lips. "Drink it."

She did. She surprised, his blood tasted sinful. She began drawing it in.

Inside Violet’s mind Ezelreth laughed. "You’re blood is so irresistible. Even witches can’t deny it’s alure. You poor thing."

Violet bit her lip to hold back a snarky reply.

When Ezelreth pulled Violet’s wrist away the witch felt it then. Her body lit up and fire burned through her veins spreading rapidly. A horrid scream ripped from deep inside her and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. She dropped to the ground convulsing.

The sister rushed to her side, panicking. The Mother turned her head sharply, glaring daggers at the pink haired girl. "What did you do?"

"I gave her immortality. I never said it was painless. She’ll be having once it’s over and she wakes up, in fact all of you will be. You’ll need to feed. Pick some witches and drink from them. They can’t resist, just don’t drain them, it’s a bad look for needing to build an army of immortal witches."

"You tricky bitch." The Crone growled.

"I am a bastard," He corrected unaffected by her insult attempt.

"Next." He held out his hand for The Mother.

She frowned and with hesitation she took it. And the same thing repeated, she vowed and Ezelreth bit and exchanged blood.

The Crone was not pleased when it came to be her turn. She was reluctant but immortality was much more important, she wanted her position forever.

When it was done, all three witches seemed dead as they laid sprawled out on the floor. If it wasn’t for their panting and the rapid rise and fall of their chests as they laid breathlessly on the ground.

Ezelreth walked away leaving them to suffer and process on their own.

Now the first witches were also the first purebloods made in over a millennium.

***Author’s Note: I am currently focused on finishing the novel. The Chapters are being focused on in the Gentle Maiden, because I feel the sequel shouldn’t end before the original, so just know the ending is drawing near. Bear with me a little longer. Especially you, SpicyReads. Thank you for your loyalty and patience***