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“I don’t trust her,” the tall man says suddenly.

My heart stutters. “You will when you see what I can do for you.”

“We haven’t made any deal yet.” His smile shows too many teeth.

I reach for my magic, preparing a defensive shield. “My services. My visions. That’s what I’m offering. In exchange, you back off and stay out of my world.”

“Or what?” the second man asks, amused.

Power builds between my palms—not offensive, just a warning. “Or I show you exactly why the Syndicate has hunted Rossewyn witches for centuries.”

The woman holds up a hand, silencing her companions. “You’ve been hiding for years. Why make a deal now?”

“My reasons are my own.”

She studies me for a long moment. “The Syndicate has questions that need answers. Prophecies that need interpretation.”

“I know.”

“It won’t be comfortable work.”

“I don’t expect comfort.”

Nor do I plan to give them all the answers they want. The Cravens may have forgotten us, but I still feel the bond we shared for so long. I’ll tell them just enough to keep them happy.

She nods once, decision made. “Good. Very good. This is just what we’ve been preparing for.”

I heave a deep breath, my guard slipping slightly. Maybe this will work after all. Maybe—

Her hand moves suddenly; a gesture too quick to follow. Before I can react, golden threads of magic wrap around my body, paralyzing my limbs.

“What—?” My protest cuts off as my lungs constrict. This shouldn’t be happening. Where would they get magic like this from?

Her smile turns predatory. “Did you really think we’d negotiate with a Rossewyn witch? We’ve been waiting for this moment. Getting everything in place. Gathering the power we knew we’d need to contain your kind.”

“No! Wait!” The magic tightens. My own power struggles against it, but she’s stronger than I anticipated… much stronger.

“Admirable attempt,” she says, stepping closer. “But the Syndicate doesn’t make deals with assets.”

The bonds bite into my skin, magical threads constricting until I can barely breathe. I struggle, but each movement only tightens their grip.

Footsteps echo across the empty parking lot. A tall figure materializes from the shadows like a wraith. The others straighten slightly, a subtle show of deference.

“Well done,” he says, voice smooth as oil. His eyes find mine, ice-blue and ancient. “Lila Rossewyn. At last.”

I spit at his feet. “Who the hell are you?”

“Alastair Creed. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” He circles me slowly, assessing. “We’ve been closing in on you for months. Reading your energy. Gathering the right magic.” He glances down at where my wrists are bound. “It was only a matter of time, really. Though I must admit—your surrender speeds things up considerably.”

My blood runs cold at his name. Creed. I’ve heard of him. One of the leaders of the Syndicate that’s been hunting Rossewyn witches for generations.

“I’m not surrendering,” I growl. “I’m agreeing to help you. But maybe I won’t, if this is going to be how you do things.”

“You misunderstand.” Alastair’s fingers brush my cheek, cold as winter. “This isn’t a negotiation. Your cooperation is… optional.”

I twist my head and snap at his hand, my mind working frantically. God, I’m such an idiot. “I’ll fight you. Every step of the way. It won’t be worth your while.”

“Fight all you want. Sooner or later, you’ll give in… once you’ve settled. I’m taking you to what will be your new home.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Your talents are far too valuable to waste.”

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