Ravenna turned away from the massive king and paced slowly across the stone floor. Her mind worked through the dangerous possibilities of the situation. Keeping Draven locked away in the Obsidian Court would doom his five innocent daughters. It would leave the kingdom of Valerius in the hands of greedy lords who might eventually march an army into her woods. She hated the mortal throne, but she did not want the blood of children on her hands.
She stopped pacing and faced him again. She made her choice.
"I will let you go," Ravenna stated plainly. Her voice carried the heavy weight of a royal decree. "I will allow you to return to your crumbling throne and your daughters."
Draven let out a long breath. The immense tension in his broad shoulders relaxed just a fraction. He stepped forward. He looked like a man who had just been pulled from drowning in a deep river. The fierce warlord was replaced by a relieved father.
"Name your price," Draven said. His voice was firm and commanding once again. "I will give you chests of silver and gold. I will grant you fertile lands in the south of my kingdom. Anything you ask for is yours."
Ravenna let out a soft and mocking laugh. The sound echoed off the dark stone walls of his prison.
"Your mortal gold holds no value in the Obsidian Court," she told him. She walked closer to him, stopping only when she had to tilt her head up to meet his stormy gray eyes. "I don't want your silver or lands. The magic of these woods provides everything my people will ever require."
Draven frowned in deep confusion. The women in his court only ever wanted wealth and power. "Then what do you want from me?"
"I want an oath," Ravenna replied. Her dark eyes flashed with bright purple light. "An ancient blood oath. You will swear that no soldier from Valerius will ever cross into my woods again. You will recognize the Obsidian Court as a sovereign kingdom. If your men break this treaty, my magic will tear your castle down stone by stone."
Draven did not hesitate. He had seen her terrifying power firsthand in the woods. He knew she was not making an empty threat. He nodded his head slowly in agreement.
"You have my word," Draven swore solemnly. "Valerius will never threaten your borders. I will enforce the treaty myself."
"Your spoken word is not enough," Ravenna corrected him.
She raised her right hand. A small silver dagger materialized out of thin air and floated gently down into her open palm. The blade was etched with ancient magical runes. She held the weapon out to him.
"Mortal promises are broken too easily," she explained. "We will bind this pact with blood."
Draven took the dagger from her hand. The blade was incredibly cold and sharp. Without a second thought, he sliced the palm of his own hand. Bright red blood welled up from the deep cut. He did not flinch or show a single sign of pain. He simply offered his bleeding hand to the wild witch queen.
Ravenna took a deep breath. She reached out and pressed her own bare hand against his bloody palm.
The moment their skin touched, a massive jolt of raw electricity shot through Ravenna. Her breath caught sharply in her throat. The physical contact was completely overwhelming. His hand was rough, calloused from years of gripping a heavy broadsword, and burning with a fierce heat. She felt the steady and powerful rhythm of his mortal heartbeat echoing against her own wild magic. It was entirely distracting.
Draven felt the violent shock too. His stormy eyes widened slightly. He looked down at their connected hands.
The wild magic of the witch queen was seeping into his mortal veins. It felt like a warm fire spreading through his chest, waking up parts of his soul he thought were dead. For a fleeting moment, the ruthless warrior king forgot about his broken kingdom. He forgot about the deadly enemies waiting for him at home. He could only focus on the intoxicating scent of crushed pine needles and the beautiful woman standing so close to him.
Ravenna quickly pulled her hand away. She took a step back, her heart beating much faster than normal. She tried very hard to hide the sudden vulnerability on her face.
"The pact is sealed," Ravenna declared softly.
She waved her hand in the air. The deep cut on Draven's palm closed instantly. The pain vanished entirely, leaving only a very faint white scar behind. Draven stared at his healed hand in pure wonder.
"I will personally escort you back to the edge of the mortal lands," Ravenna told him. She turned her back to him and walked toward the heavy iron doors. "I need to make sure you actually leave my territory without causing any more trouble."
"You are coming with me?" Draven asked. A strange feeling of relief washed over his heavy chest. The thought of leaving this mysterious and dangerous woman behind suddenly felt very wrong to him.
"Only to the border," Ravenna said strictly. She did not turn around to look at him. "We leave at first light. You will get your armor and your sword back tomorrow morning. Rest while you can, little king. The woods are much more dangerous in the daylight."
The heavy iron doors swung open on their own command. Ravenna stepped out into the dark hallway, leaving Draven alone in the room once again.
The doors slammed shut and locked with a loud magical click. Draven stood in the center of the silent room. He looked down at his newly healed hand.
He could still feel the phantom heat of her touch burning against his skin. He was going back to Valerius to save his daughters and his fractured throne. He had survived the wild woods. He had secured a powerful treaty to save his people.
But as Draven lay back down on the large bed covered in thick furs, he realized a terrifying truth. He was leaving the Obsidian Court, but the beautiful and lethal witch queen had entirely captured his mind. He closed his eyes and drifted into a restless sleep, dreaming only of deep purple light and a woman made of powerful shadows.