“Are you doing this?” I whisper to Keryth and Kirian, since they both have the power to control the weather.

“Doing what?” Kirian cries. “What’s happening?”

“No,” Keryth replies. Coming over to lift us off the floor, he backs up toward the hall. “It’s not us.”

“Listen to the king,” eerie voices speak the answer before nine trolls emerge from the mist. “And now listen to us.”

Moving toward us with synchronized movements, they file into the room.

They wear dark gray cloaks, and the top half of their faces are hidden in the shadows of their hoods. Judging by the exposed skin on their hands and their various heights, I’d say they range in age, anywhere from preteens to elderly.

“Witches,” I breathe out.

“Oh, yes,” they say. When I see all their mouths moving in tandem, I realize why it sounds so creepy—they’re all speaking the same words at the same time. “And we have a message for the young prince.”

They step closer, and Keryth passes Gia to me before putting a protective arm out in front of us. “What’s your message?”

“The prince must ask nicely.”

“Tell me?” Kirian asks, trying his best to keep his voice from quivering. “Please.”

“A curse has been put upon you,” they reply.

“Why me? What did I do?”

“Not just you. Every firstborn of the royal families.”

“Zander?” I speak up.

Five years ago, my brother produced an heir with a kidnapped female. Although she wasn’t his fated mate, he took the unwilling woman as his wife because she was able to give him a son.

“Yes.” They nod in unison.

For the first time ever, I’m actually glad Tehya wasn’t able to conceive. I’m sure it’s caused her great sadness over the years, but at least they don’t have a child to be affected by this.

As if reading my mind, the witches shake their heads. “King Silas is not safe. His child is cursed, too.”

“They’re expecting a baby?” This is news to me.

“Not yet,” they answer. “Soon, though.”

“Why?” I demand, my anger coming through. “Why would you do this?”

All nine trolls lift their hands and pull back their hoods.

Keryth’s hand tightens on my waist, and I whimper.

Every one of them has deep slashes over their eye sockets. Empty eye sockets.

Someone cut out their eyes. Recently. Blood still oozes from the wounds, leaving a trail of red down their cheeks.

“Who did this to you?” Keryth’s voice is hard. “I’ll get justice for you. There’s no need to retaliate on my son.”

“Day Realm soldiers.” They point at us. “They blamed you for the plague. Said we cursed them on your behalf.”

“Are you the coven my brother hired?” my mate asks.

“Does it matter? Did we deserve this?”

“No one deserves what happened to you. If there’s a deal we can make—”