To heal a Rogue

JOHANN

”Johann, meet Willow Shelter.”

Willow. It suited her somehow—something that sounded delicate but could bend without breaking. I found myself smiling before I realized it, the expression coming naturally as I extended my hand.

”A pleasure, Miss Shelter.” I let my fingers linger against hers when she took my hand, her skin cool and smooth against mine. ”Though I must admit, I’m surprised my mother has started collecting intriguing young women without at least giving me some warning.”

Willow’s lips curved into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. ”I’m not so easily collected, Your Highness. And I’m not nearly as young as I look.”

”Johann,” my mother said, her tone carrying a familiar warning that I’d learned to recognize since childhood. She was not having any of this. ”Behave.”

”I always behave,” I replied, not breaking eye contact with Willow. ”I simply choose how to define the term.”

Willow laughed then, a genuine sound that made something in my chest tighten pleasantly. ”I see why your mother speaks so highly of your diplomatic skills. I have some faith working with you.”

”Only my diplomatic skills?” I leaned against the edge of the table, deliberately casual. ”I’m wounded.”

”Johann,” my mother repeated, sharper this time. ”We have business to discuss.”

”Of course.” I gestured toward the chairs present. ”Though I must say, this is an unexpected development.”

Mother ignored that.

”You two will show up during your father’s funeral,” my mother immediately began, as if discussing catering arrangements rather than the start of a royal mutiny. ”I will ensure it happens as soon as possible to sell a quick story. The mourning period will be brief, the succession swift. There won’t be time for extended challenges.”

We both nodded, though I felt a knot tighten in my stomach.

That was when Willow moved closer, her voice dropping to a whisper that barely disturbed the air between us. She seemed to enjoy the repulsed my mother had to how close she got. ”It seems the Beta is suspicious of us.”

I turned toward the door, and I hadn’t caught it before, but I did now. There were footsteps in the corridor. Not the steady patrol of sentinels, but the softer, more deliberate steps of someone trying to be quiet while they were listening.

Willow’s eyes narrowed slightly. ”Should I kill him?”

”Do not be like that,” my mother said with a sigh. ”That would just be giving them what they want. Another dead body, another reason to question us and this time there would be no plausible deniability.”

Johann watched her sigh, the gesture somehow both weary and calculating. ”Okay then,” she said finally. ”But we can’t have him listening to everything.”

She snapped her hand in a sharp, precise motion, and what looked like a bubble of shimmering air expanded from her palm, quickly covering the entire room. The sound from the corridor vanished instantly, replaced by a profound silence that made my ears ring.

”That will be all,” Willow said, her voice now sounding different in the enclosed space. ”They can’t hear us now. And I took extra precautions to ensure the bug that was placed in the room wouldn’t pick up anything useful.”

”What bug?” I asked.

She walked to a shelf near my bed and tore a tiny black machine from underneath the wooden overhang. It was no bigger than my thumbnail, perfectly designed to blend in with the shadows.

”That bastard,” I breathed.

”He is clearly on to us,” my mother said, her expression grim.

Willow turned to face me, her cornflower eyes intense. ”You should be grateful that I’m here. Without me, they’d already have everything they needed to build a case against you and perhaps Eddie here.”

Eddie? Was she close with my mother?

She then fully crushed the bug with what looked like a spark of green magic from her fingertips. The device dissolved into dust that scattered and vanished before it hit the floor.

”Of course we are grateful,” my mother said smoothly, though I could hear the tension beneath her words. ”It all brings us closer to our goal.”

I looked from my mother to Willow and I stayed on her. ”I understand our goal, but what could be your goal? Why are you with us? A witch of your power could have what you want. I imagine.”

”You really should stop flirting, Prince.”

My mother’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. ”Johann, can I have a moment with you?”

She took my arm and led me toward the bathroom, shutting the door behind us. The small space immediately filled with her scent—something expensive and floral that had always reminded me of the gardens in summer.

She began whispering immediately, her voice low and urgent. ”Do not trust her. We have a reason to hold hands for now and she is currently a witch, and—”

”Currently?” I interrupted.

”Yes. Currently.” Her eyes darted toward the door as if Willow could somehow hear through walls. ”But do not give into her. Do not trust her, and especially do not let her get your blood or convince you to use your blood for anything. She for some reason wants royal blood, and I promised her she would get it when she gets you to the throne. That is all that is to happen. And trust me, it will make sense when you are on the seat and Willow out there gets the blood.”

I nodded slowly, even though the pieces were not clicking as I would have wanted them to. ”Of course. Understood.”

When we emerged from the bathroom, Willow was examining one of the books on my shelf, her fingers tracing the embossed title as if she could read the history of its ownership through the leather binding.

”Everything settled?” she asked without turning around. ”Told him not to trust me, I assume.”

”Everything,” I replied, watching her carefully now. The girl who had intrigued me minutes ago suddenly seemed dangerous in a way I hadn’t fully appreciated before.

”Good.” She turned then, and her eyes met mine with an intensity that made me want to take a step back. ”Because we have work to do, Your Highness. And time, as your mother so delicately pointed out, is running out.”

Something in my mother’s expression tightened at that, the practiced smoothness slipping just enough for me to catch it.

”Before that,” she said, ”we need to do a soul kiss. All three of us.”

Willow’s eyebrows rose. ”That isn’t necessary. Not unless trust is genuinely in question.”

”There isn’t enough trust,” my mother said, flat and immediate, no hesitation in it at all.

I looked between the two of them, the tension in the room shifting into something I didn’t fully understand yet. ”What’s a soul kiss?”

Neither of them answered me directly. Willow’s jaw tightened, something almost offended flickering across her face before she smoothed it away.

”Edie, you’re being needlessly cautious,” she said to my mother.

”I’ve survived this long being needlessly cautious,” my mother said. ”I don’t intend to change that habit for you. Especially you.”

They almost sounded like bitter ex-lovers if I ignored the age gap and gender.

Willow studied her for a long moment, and I watched something calculating pass behind those cornflower eyes, some private weighing of costs against benefits that I clearly wasn’t privy to.

”Okay, then,” Willow said finally. ”You win.”

She crossed the room toward my mother, unhurried, and lifted one hand between them, palm facing outward, fingers spread.

”Explain it to your son first,” she said. ”He deserves to know what he’s agreeing to.”

My mother turned to me, and something almost apologetic crossed her face, the first genuinely soft expression I’d seen from her all night.

”A soul kiss binds intent,” she said. ”It’s an old practice, older than most witch houses currently standing. When two parties can’t fully trust each other’s word, they exchange a piece of truth through it instead. Neither of us can lie to each other or play the other once it’s done. Not to each other, not about anything directly tied to what we’re building together.”

”So it’s a lie detector,” I said.

”It’s considerably more binding than that,” Willow said, a thin smile pulling at her mouth. ”A lie detector only tells you when someone’s lying. This makes lying about our shared goal physically impossible. My magic, and all three of us words and desires will be bound to the same truth. I will not be able to betray you, neither can you do the same.”

”Sounds invasive,” I said.

”It is,” my mother said. ”That’s precisely why I want it done before we go any further with you, Ly— I mean Willow. I need to know you’ll hold up your end exactly as promised, once Johann sits where he’s meant to sit.”

Willow held out her hand toward my mother, and after a beat, my mother took it, their fingers lacing together with a familiarity that suggested this wasn’t the first time either of them had done something like this.

Willow leaned forward and pressed her lips briefly to my mother’s, and for one strange, suspended second, the air in the room seemed to hum, some current passing between them that raised the hair along my arms even from several feet away.

Then it was over, both of them pulling back, my mother’s breath coming slightly unsteady.

”Satisfied,” Willow said.

”For now,” my mother said.

I stood there, watching the two of them straighten their composure like nothing unusual had just occurred, and found myself wondering, not for the first time today, exactly how many more secrets my mother intended to keep tucked just out of my reach before this was finally over.

Then Willow turned to me and smiled. ”You next.”

That was when I noticed blood at the lower part of her lips and she immediately lapped it up.