THE MAGE'S PRICE
Cassius's POV
I turned onto my side, staring up at the ceiling of my chamber. Cold, silent and empty. Sleep hadn't come easily in days and tonight was no different.
The pressure in my chest had grown worse—restlessness coiling like smoke deep within my mind, demanding movement. Action.
"Enough."
My wolf growled, pacing behind my thoughts.
We don't have time for this." The beast rumbled. *She's still out there. We should be moving, not lying here like a weak pup.*
I shut my eyes, inhaling deeply. *You think I don't know that?*
*Then why are we wasting time? Why are we still here?*
"We can't move without a plan, I replied."
"If we rush in blindly, we won't be able to save her."
*If we wait any longer, there won't be anything left to save.*
He wasn't wrong. Every hour Celene remained in Balthazar's grasp, the rage inside me burned hotter. I sat up, swung my legs over the bed, and pressed my bare feet against the cold stone floor. If sleep wouldn't come, I'd find Magnus. We still had ground to cover.
But the moment I stepped into the corridor, I knew something was off.
There was too much movement, too many voices. A burst of laughter, the rustle of fabrics. The clink of gold pleated trays.
My irritation flared instantly.
I followed the noise, turning the corner and stopped.
The grand hall looked like a festival. Silks draped the walls, florist arranged vases taller than some men, tables were being set with polished cutlery and crystal. The scent of marjoram, and nightshade filled the space so much it made my head ache.
It hit me then. The banquet.
I had agreed to attend one banquet. Nothing more. No one had said anything about it being held here—in my palace.
My gaze locked on the woman responsible.
Queen Dowager Lenore stood at the top of the staircase, arms folded, her sharp eyes following the movement below like a general inspecting her troops.
She noticed me before I could walk away.
"Ah, Cassius," she greeted, her voice far too pleased. "Isn't it glorious? I must say, this is long overdue. Your father would be proud."
I clenched my jaw. "You didn't tell me it would be here."
She raised a brow. "Would it have made a difference?"
"Yes."
Her lips curled. "Then it's a good thing I didn't."
My wolf growled. *She's enjoying this a little too much.*
I stepped closer. "I agreed to show up. Nothing more."
"And yet here we are," she said, gesturing around. "The people need to see their king, Cassius. Strong. Present. Building a legacy."
I gave her a hard look, but she didn't flinch.
"After all these years of refusing, I expected more resistance."
"I have more important matters to attend to."
"Matters that can't wait a single evening?"
I didn't argue. There was no point. She was pleased, and I didn't have the energy to fight her satisfaction.
As I turned to leave, Magnus appeared, striding toward me with urgency.
"Looking for me?" he asked.
"I was just about to."
"Good. Because we may have a lead."
My attention snapped back to him. "Go on."
"A mage. One willing to get us through the Cursed Forest."
My pulse kicked.
"Mages don't work for the crown."
"This one doesn't care. He's not loyal to anyone but he's willing to negotiate."
"Where is he?"
"Not far. But…" Magnus lowered his voice. "He's tricky and dangerous."
I smirked. "Good. So am I."
Magnus didn't argue. He turned and led the way.
----
The old mage sat inside what seemed to be a poorly lit tomb. His long, bony fingers tapping against a wooden staff that looked as old as he did. His sharp eyes followed Magnus and I as we stepped inside.
The air smelt of burning herbs and bitter concoctions. Colored candles lined the shelves, their flames flickered over twisted trinkets and ancient scrolls. Dust coated everything.
He sat at the far end, hunched, yet not frail. His pale eyes locked onto mine for a moment.
He didn't greet us. Instead, he tilted his head and smirked.
"Oh, here he is." he said, voice rough with age but sharp as a knife. "The Alpha King himself. I expected more… presence."
I said nothing.
He leaned forward, peering at me like I was something under glass. "You look tired, your majesty. Lost sleep lately?"
Magnus stiffened, but I held still. Mages loved to playing mind games.
"You know why we're here," I said, straight to the point.
"Oh, I do." He smiled slowly. "But I wonder if you know what you're asking."
"I know exactly what I'm asking."
The mage let out a low chuckle. "Impatient, aren't you? How fitting. Your kind never did know how to wait."
My wolf snarled inside me, but I kept my expression blank.
I clenched my jaw. "I don't have time for this."
"Of course you don't," he mused. "Kings never do."
His tone was light, almost amused, but there was an edge to it—an old grudge buried under layers of forced civility.
I cut in, voice firm. "I'm not here to talk in circles. What happened between your people and my ancestors has nothing to do with me."
"How convenient."
I stepped forward. "We're here for a deal. Name your price."
He gave a low chuckle. "Very well, Let's talk business."
With a flick of his hand, a scroll unrolled across the table. Ink shimmered along the parchment, moving like water, forming words I couldn't quite recognize. A quill floated in the air beside it.
"The forest is not kind," he said. "It feeds of strength and life force. My magic can protect you but magic this old demands balance."
I wasn't stupid. Nothing came without a price.
"Again I ask, what exactly do you want?"
The mage smiled, slow and deliberate. "A fraction of your immortality."
Beside me, Magnus stiffened.
I narrowed my eyes. "How much?"
"Sixty percent," he said, voice calm, almost casual.
Silence.
Then Magnus snapped, "That's insane. Do you think we're foolish enough to give you that?"
"I think you have no other options," the mage replied calmly.
Magnus swore under his breath. I remained quiet, staring at the scroll.
*Sixty percent?!* my wolf repeated. *Unacceptable.*
"We need him." I replied.
*Not at this cost." My wolf replied.*
My eyes scanned the glowing script. Then I saw it.
A trap.
The magic in the contract would begin draining the moment I signed it, even before we crossed the forest.
He's lying.
I see it.
I looked up.A "You think I wouldn't notice?"
The mage blinked slowly.
"No power until we're through," I said coldly. "You'll get forty percent after we've crossed."
The mage tapped his staff against the floor, considering.
"And if I refuse?"
"Then we walk," I said simply.
His gaze darkened.
I waited.
He leaned back. "You drive a hard bargain."
"No bargain. That's the deal."
Then—the writing on the contract shifted.
He studied me, then nodded once. "Agreed."
My wolf growled. *We're still giving him too much.*
"We don't have time to negotiate better odds." I responded.
I plucked the quill from the air.
My hand hovered for a second longer than I liked to admit.
Then—I signed.
The ink flared.
Pain shot through my chest, not unbearable, but deep and cold.
Magnus grabbed my arm. "Cassius!"
I waved him off.
The mage smiled, and for the first time, I wondered if I had traded one cage for another.
But Celene was waiting and I'd tear through anything to reach her.