Page 4 of Hellish Witch

“Zoella, no,” Rex pleaded, the agonised sound stabbing my heart. “Don’t do this. We’ll find another way.”

Fenton snarled. “Fine. Come here.”

The witch strode closer, and Fenton dragged me to meet her, gun digging painfully into my temple. He released his grip on my hair, and I stumbled forward, legs threatening to give out under my full weight.

Something slammed into my back, sending me flying as I tripped over an unmoving body. Before I hit the ground, powerful arms caught me, pulling me into the safety of a muscular chest.

Killian.

“You’re okay, Eve. I’ve got you now. Nothing will ever take you from me again.”

Chapter 1

Two months later…

A feral hiss cut through the night.

I paused mid-stride, searching the quiet path for any sign of danger. Nobody was around at this late hour, especially not wandering the edge of the Bloodwood on a midnight stroll. It had become my regular route. A way to chew through the long hours.

These days, sleep was overrated.

My heart thudded, but nothing jumped out from the towering trees or the shadowed cottages set back safely beyond them.

A low chuckle underscored another distressed hiss.

I tilted my horns aside, listening intently.

“What’s the matter, pussycat? Don’t wanna be a cloak?” A scratchy male voice reached me again. “They fetch such a good price.”

I turned to a cabin jutting out from the neat row with a frown. It was one of the older structures: a basic wooden square with a thatched roof. The Hybrid Kingdom had only been around for a decade, though, so even our oldest building wasn’t that shoddy, just simple.

The cabin sat away from the others, too close to the forest for most, making it an ideal temporary residence for new hybrids seeking sanctuary in our hidden village.

No lights were on, but a dark figure fell from the shadows behind the building. He stumbled across the open grass that made up a makeshift communal garden, waving a bottle in one hand and something metallic in the other.

Steel glinted under the moonlight. A shiver trickled down my spine at the sight of his blade.

A hiss lashed out again, scraping at my ears. My pathetic night vision finally kicked in enough for me to make out what the male loomed over.

A mass of fur and fury raged behind bars. Claws swiped out through gaps in the cage, but the cackling demon stayed just out of reach.

My thoughts took a slow slide into a dark place. With barred cells and blood. Sneering faces and sharp blades. Fear and pain.

Before I knew it, my feet carried me from the dubious safety of the bleeding trees.

“How about a mop, then?” The demon upended his bottle, tipping the dregs of some cheap spirit over the trapped creature.

It hissed with a ferocity that set my pulse drumming, almost loud enough to drown out my thoughts.

The demon spluttered out a laugh. He narrowly avoided cutting himself as he doubled over with drunken mirth, the handle of his blade whacking his thigh.

“Or I could juststab, stab, stab.” He punctuated the words with the jab of his blade towards the bars. “I’ve always been good at making pussies squeal.”

A darkened lab replaced the hushed village with each blink. Memory and reality blurred back and forth in a nauseating swing as I struggled for control.

My claws ached from blunting them on metal bars. My flesh bled with too many cuts from glinting blades, mocking jeers from my captors just as sharp.

Screams echoed so loud I couldn’t think straight.

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