The air was tense; Alicarde had just taken Marian hostage, his sword pressed firmly to her neck.
It was quick and shocking. He hadn't hesitated—already the young witch trembled, her life balanced in his hands. She knew she couldn't cast faster than he could sever her head.
In their current state, no one could. Not after Malefica had weakened their power by half.
The witches surrounding them watched, unease visible in every one of them. None dared to attack.
"Malefica, you really will stop at nothing to thwart your own coven,"
Cassandra's voice cut through the silence, filled with rage.
"Shut the hell up, you witch b*tch... you did this to yourself."
Alicarde's tone was dark.
"Now I want answers."
Cassandra narrowed her eyes.
"What answers? This has nothing to do with you."
"It doesn't," he replied, unbothered,