The Warrior’s Broken Mate novel Chapter 103

Elias had arranged just the right kind of chaos Luke picking a fight with a pair of locals, loud enough to draw Arthur’s attention like a moth to flame. With eyes elsewhere, the way out was ours.

We slipped from the village unseen, and headed straight for the place where I’d ended the black witch… and Mia.

“So, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Elias asked.

“I’d really rather not. Not just yet anyway.” I said.

“What do you mean? I know something is going on with you. You haven’t been yourself today,” he said.

“I know. Something isn’t right. And I need to try and figure it out.” I said.

“What’s that?” He asked.

“Something has been going on with me since I got here. I need to figure out what happened when I killed the black witch.” I said.

“Is that where we’re going?” He asked.

“Yeah. To where I killed her.” I said.

“Are you sure we’re going in the right direction?” He asked.

“Positive. I know my way from here.” I said.

The climb brought us into the clearing, the silence heavy, broken only by Flias hanging back, his gaze sweeping the ground. He wasn’t just watching it together, trying to read the echoes of what had happened here.

—

As I began slowly reenacting everything that had happened here, my words heavy with memory, Elias shifted his weight and leaned back against the jagged rocks beside us. The stone caught the fading light, throwing fractured shadows across his face, and for a moment he looked carved from the ruins themselves–silent, immovable, watching me with an intensity that made it hard to tell whether he was listening or judging. His arms folded loosely across his chest, but the tension in his jaw betrayed him.

I moved slowly, each step deliberate, as if the weight of memory itself held me back. My mind retraced every moment, every word, every flicker of dark magic that had passed between myself and the black witch. The air seemed heavier with each recollection, as though the land itself remembered too, and my body mirrored that burden–hesitant, unsteady, caught between the past and the present.

I tried to remember every facial feature, every movement that she made, every smirk, every word. But there was nothing here that I could actually think of that would make me start getting her memories.

I knew that it was important for me to remember what happened that day, something up here happened that I didn’t realize at the time.

“So, the dragon was over there. Right in front of you?” Elias asked.

“Yeah. And Morgana is the one that went crazy when I killed the dragon. She was the mother of the dragons. She controlled them.” I said.

“And how does Arthur know that she doesn’t have dragons behind that cloak of her tower?”

He asked.

“Exactly. He doesn’t know but he won’t admit it.” I said.

“Another reason why you’re not going there alone.” He said.

I turned to look out over the wasteland, remembering what the whole realm looked like the last time I was here.

How lush the forest was, how beautiful the landscape was. And now it was reduced to ash and black charcoal ground.

“This place is so foreign to me.” I said.

“I know. But I’m sure you’re going to fix it.” Elias said.

“I wouldn’t even know the first place to start.” I said.

“We’ll figure it out.” He said.

“I think that’s what Arthur is hoping for me to do. But I don’t know how I would even start.” I said.

“Despite what Arthur has told you.” She said evenly, “I didn’t destroy this land.”

“You really expect me to believe that?” My voice cracked slightly, the weight of everything pressing in.

“I want to ask you something though.” She said.

“And what the hell is that?” I asked.

“I need you to trust me.” She said.

“What?” I was shocked.

“I know that I wasn’t on your side the last time you were here. But we now have an enemy in common.” She said.

“Let me guess. Arthur.” I said.

“Yeah. He’s not to be trusted.” She said.

“Well, neither are you as far as I’m concerned.” I said.

“Well,” she shrugged, her eyes glinting, “you can believe what you want. But it’s the truth. I wouldn’t do this to my own home.”

I stepped closer, searching her face for any sign of deception. “Then what the hell happened here? Who did this?”

For a long moment, she said nothing. The silence stretched between us until it became unbearable. Finally, she turned her head, her gaze locking with mine–unyielding, cold, unflinching.

“You did.”