Page 131 of Witch Undecided
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Tor
Ilower the varga to her feet in the forest as Jessie works on opening a rift.
The shifter barely weighs a thing, all skin and bones. They’ve been starving her and yet she makes no attempt to attack any of us. The feral hunger that I’ve seen in other varga eyes is absent in hers.
The urge in my veins to slaughter her is also absent. “I have so many questions.”
She looks almost sad. “I can’t answer them. All I can do is tell you that things aren’t always black and white.”
“You kill humans.”
She bows her head. “I know.”
A pang of pity stabs at my chest, surprising me.
Her jaw tenses. “Do not pity me.” She lifts her head and locks gazes with me. “Do not let this interlude color your determination to end us. If we enter your world, we come here to feed, and you must fight us. You must stop us. Do you understand?”
I’m so confused. There is no doubt that the varga are killers, but here’s one who seems contrite, even a little disgusted with her actions. Could it be they aren’t masters of their deeds? Are they being forced to hunt and kill?
Everything I know about the varga is in question. “I need to understand.”
A cough wracks her body, and she sags against me. “I can’t help you with that.”
“Tor.” Leif moves closer to us, carrying the other varga. “She’s barely conscious.”
“We can’t stay any longer,” the ice-eyed varga says. “If we do, we’ll die. The air…Too long, and it’s toxic.”
The air crackles and Jessie steps back with a smug look on her face. “One rift ready for transporting.”
“Sophie.” Arctic Eyes strokes the other varga’s face. “Come, we’re going home.”
Sophie’s eyes flutter open and she smiles weakly. “We lived, Dayna.”
“Yes, but we need to hurry.”
Leif lowers Sophie to the ground and Dayna ducks under her arm to support her even though her own legs are shaking. The two varga head for the rift.
Jessie steps back to join Leif and me as the varga shuffle toward the portal. Dayna looks over her shoulder when she gets there.
“The next time we meet, we will not be friends,” she says. “Do not let down your guard.”
She steps through the rift and the light swallows her.
“What the fuck, Tor?” Leif asks softly.
I shake my head. “I don’t know, but we—”
My chest lurches, and my stomach drops as if I’ve just taken a dip on a roller coaster. My head whips to Leif to find him staring at me, wide-eyed. His hand goes to his diaphragm.
“Cora!” we say in unison.
We turn and sprint through the clearing, because this is no ordinary tug on the threads that bind us. It’s a wrench.
A scream.
Cora’s in mortal danger, and we need to get to her. Now.
