Page 49 of Magic in the Woods
I wiggled my toes…my human toes. I was still in human form.
My body instantly relaxed.
Wait…did I accidentally transform?I’d been unconscious, not in control of my body. It was entirely possible I’d changed into the little orange kitten.
Does he now know I shift into a kitten because I don’t have poison?
I tried to lift my head. It felt heavy, like a pail full of milk. I relaxed my neck, my head falling back onto a pillow.
“That’s it…” It was his voice.
I wiggled my body against the spring-filled mattress I laid on.
I was back in my bed.
“Try to stay still…for just another day…” His voice was soothing—almost as soothing as the cool cloth he placed on my forehead.
I drifted off, the back of my head numb and my body tired.
“You must’ve hit your head hard. You’ve been out for two days.” Brooke helped me sit up, and I battled a wave of dizzinessfrom the sudden movement. “Whoa. Let me help you to the bathroom.”
My feet hit the floor, my arm wrapped around Brooke’s.
Gideon walked forward to help, but she shooed him back, leading me to the bathroom.
“Are you okay on your own? Or do you want me to come in?” Brooke asked.
I grabbed on the pedestal sink and gave myself a minute to get my balance. My head was still woozy, but I could manage using the toilet alone. I shook my head at her.
“I’ll be right outside if you need me,” she said.
I used the bathroom and began washing my hands in the sink. I looked up at the mirror and cringed as I saw my face for the first time since Petunia’s attack. My eyes were still swollen from sleeping, and my hair needed to be brushed. I put a finger to my lips, gasping as the gash stung underneath the pad of my finger. I must’ve bit my lip when I hit my head.
I froze.
Right above my lip, just above the corner, something was there. It looked different from the pimples I’d gotten when I’d been younger. It was red and angry looking—it was a sore.
Was this really happening?
I got closer to the mirror, examining my skin for any more spots. Nothing. I came back to the spot above my lip. This was just the beginning. Soon, like every other witch here, I’d have a hooked nose and warts, making my skin bumpy.
This was not what I had imagined when I came here. In truth, I didn’t know what I’d imagined. Maybe a path laid out in front of me? Some sort of guidance that I’d somehow accrue from an unknown source. What had I been thinking? It’d been all too easy to visualize myself taking over the Coven, gaining information, and eventually infiltrating my spot as Prime. Before I’d come here, I’d thoughtit’d be easy.
A tear trailed down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away, not wanting the salt to stain my skin.
All my thoughts about coming here had been nothing more than wishful thinking. I choked a sob down my throat and back into my chest. With a flick of my wrist and two pointed fingers, I used the air magic no one was supposed to know I had, to pause the surrounding air. I stopped it from vibrating so that the embarrassing sounds about to leave my body wouldn’t leave the bathroom.
As soon as I felt the air hesitate, I let it out—a deep, guttural cry that hurt my ribs as my lungs clawed for more air. Was it even worth it? I could just disappear, live in the woods—although that hadn’t gone great for me the first time. Maybe I could hide in the Velkans’ trailer? But what kind of life would that be? In both scenarios, I’d be hiding. That was exactly what my mother would’ve wanted me to do if I wasn’t supposed to be dead already.
Maybe I wasn’t meant to be a leader. I’d been born into the role—that didn’t mean I was the right witch for it. If my mother was in my place, she’d already have the Coven under her thumb.
I dared to look back at the mirror. Luckily, my face was already so red from sleeping that no one could tell I’d had a complete breakdown in the bathroom. I flicked my wrist again, the fans in the ceiling resuming their humming.
There was a single knock on the door. I opened it slowly, looking out into the room.
Gideon was leaning against the wall outside the bathroom, staring at the doorway.
“Have you been crying?” His hands grabbed my upper arms as his eyes scanned my face. “Why didn’t I hear it?”
