Page 68 of Doyle

He let the threat hang in the air, his gaze sharp as a knife.

"No trouble," I echoed, my voice barely a whisper.

This isn’t real, I reminded myself. But the fear gnawing at me felt all too real.

Morgan yanked me out of the cage, his grip rough as he marched me up the stairs.

My legs felt weak, but I forced them to move, knowing resistance was futile.

He dragged me to the attic, Liliana’s designated spell room—the place where nightmares were born.

"I’ve brought your pet," Morgan announced, shoving me inside the room like I was nothing more than a piece of meat.

Anger flared in me, and without thinking, I snarled back at him, baring my lengthening fangs.

My inner fox stirred, no longer cowering in fear. He was ready, willing to fight.

"Looks like your time away from me has made you remember you have claws and teeth," a voice drawled, dripping with condescension.

I swallowed hard and turned to face Liliana.

She was standing by a cauldron, stirring something that smelled foul enough to make my stomach turn.

Did this conversation ever happen? My memories felt jumbled, distorted.

"You want me? Here I am," I replied, forcing my voice to sound steady.

I prayed for this nightmare to end, to wake up and find myself back with Doyle where I belonged.

Liliana’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she continued stirring.

"The trap your witches set for Doyle and Ivan failed," I blurted out, wanting to hurt her, to see her lose that smug expression for once.

But she just laughed, the sound grating on my nerves.

"They were decoys, Michael. Haven’t you learned by now that I don’t put all my eggs in one basket?" Liliana asked.

Her back was turned, and I watched as she began chopping something with her spell knife.

My heart pounded. I could strike now, while her guard was down. But I couldn’t move.

Fear paralyzed me, the old terror she’d instilled in me so deeply that even now, even in a dream, I couldn’t shake it.

Liliana continued her work, oblivious—or perhaps fully aware—of my internal struggle.

I caught a glimpse of what she was chopping, and my stomach churned. It looked like a liver. Or a heart.

I fought down the bile rising in my throat.

"What do you mean those witches were a decoy?" I asked, my voice trembling. "What about Glenn? That poor kid will be traumatized for life."

Liliana turned to face me, a twisted smile on her lips.

"Haven’t you figured it out by now, Michael? You’re the trap. My secret weapon."

She stepped closer, and I recoiled as she reached out to touch my cheek.

"No," I thought fiercely. I couldn’t let her control me.

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