Page 73 of To Stir a Fae's Passion

The young witch listened, her eyes darting back and forth among them, and when Isa finished, Rose peered at Tallak.

“Did he kill them all?” she asked in Fae.

“Yes,” Isa said.

“The mistress, too?”

Isa frowned, glanced at Tallak.

He tilted his head. “Tall, green hair, gray skin, and blue eyes?” he asked in Fae.

Rose gave a shaky nod.

“Dead.”

A shudder went through the young woman, and she closed her eyes, sagging against the wall.

Isa translated the exchange for Hazel and Basil. At the mention of Rose’s “mistress,” Hazel’s expression hardened, clearly indicating she’d get to the bottom of the story behind that. Later.

She nodded at her daughter. “Isa, please tell her I’m going to use magic to take off her chains.”

Isa relayed that to Rose, and the young witch nodded her consent, holding out her arms with the heavy cuffs around her wrists when Hazel approached her. Metal clinked, the chains clanked on the stone floor, and Rose was free.

She eyed Hazel’s outstretched hand for a moment, as if unsure whether to take it. As if she was looking at a dog, trying to decide whether it would lick her hand—or bite it.

With an unsteady breath, she grasped Hazel’s fingers, let the older witch pull her to her feet. She swayed, and Hazel steadied her with her hands on her shoulders. Rose cringed, pulled back just a little.

Enough to make hurt flash across Hazel’s face, visible even though she tried to hide it the next second. “It’s all right, Rose,” Hazel said, nodding at Isa to translate. “I understand. I don’t expect you to trust me yet. You don’t know me, and it will take time. But please know I’m here for you. I’ve been waiting to take you back into my arms for twenty-six years.” Her voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “I can wait a bit longer.”

Rose listened to Isa’s translation, studying Hazel with wide eyes, mapping her face—undoubtedly rattled by the resemblance.

“Rose,” the young witch said, as if trying the word. She looked at Isa, spoke in Fae. “That is what she named me?”

Isa nodded.

“What does it mean?”

“Karûn,” Isa said, naming the flower in Fae.

Rose considered that, tilted her head. “That is better.”

“Than what?”

“Nem.”

Isa exhaled roughly, her heart cringing.

“What?” Hazel asked.

She translated, finished with, “They called her morsel.”

Isa had to hand it to Hazel. The witch kept her temper under tight control, despite the murderous glint in her eyes.

“Here,” Tallak said in Fae, and threw a bundle of clothes at Rose, including boots.

She caught them, clutched them to her.

Isa raised her brows at him. She hadn’t even noticed when he left the room, but apparently he’d searched the other parts of the house.

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