Page 17 of Soul of a Witch

“Get away from me,” she said, lowering her hands and knotting them in the blankets. “Get out. Go.”

I didn’t move a muscle. Why wasn’t she using her magic? She was practically bursting at the seams; without doubt one of the most powerful witches I’d ever encountered. But she was holding back, despite her fear of me.

It made no sense.

“You can do better than that,” I said, slowly stalking forward. With every step, her breath came faster. Her fingers curled, digging into the blankets, her jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched in her cheek. Reaching the edge of the bed, I spread my arms and grasped the tall wooden posts on either side. Her expression was guarded, but she couldn’t hide how curious she was as she observed me.

Still, she didn’t lash out at me. No magic, no punishment, no pain.

Climbing onto the mattress, I crawled toward her. She watched my movements with growing horror. Her breath shuddered, her eyes darting like a cornered rabbit.

But she was no rabbit, no helpless frightened creature. She was a witch, in possession of such a wealth of power that her energy was like a bonfire compared to everything around her. She glowed; her presence made the air itself vibrate.

When I was close enough to touch her, I sat back on my heels. She’d drawn her legs up, curled against her chest, watching me cautiously. But I was mesmerized by the cupid’s bow of her lips, the pink flush on her cheeks, the graceful curve of her neck.

Her scent filled my head as I inhaled. Her magic smelled sugary sweet; it reminded me of springtime in the wilds of Hell. Like damp grass crushed underfoot, young berries drizzled in sugary sap, freshly-plucked herbs. It was a scent of comfort, impossible to resist, drawing me nearer like a caress until I was leaning toward her, so close our breath mingled.

Her blue eyes were wide, glittering as she peered up at me. The tension went out of her arms, although her expression remained suspicious, but she watched me differently now. As if she was trying to solve an impossible riddle, or trying to remember something important.

“If you can’t reach your magic, a slap will do just as well,” I said. Anything, if it meant she would willingly touch me. But she shook her head, slowly at first, then quickly.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said. Dazed, she lifted her hand toward my face. Her long fingers spread, delicate and thin, as they hovered near my face.

Her hand brushed against my cheek, and an electric current flowed through me. She wasstunning.Her power was a thousand suns trapped inside her, and when it encountered my own, it flared to life. She exhaled; a sigh so heavy she might have been holding it for a century. Sparks glittered in her breath; heat flooded through her.

She was no dragon, no fire-breathing monster. She was a phoenix, as graceful as the dawn, as soft as she was clever, as gentle as she was determined.

I had waited two thousand years for that touch.

“You’re shaking,” she said softly. But I was only trying to stay calm, to prevent myself from going feral again and frightening her even more.

I’d spent centuries waiting for a glimpse of her. If I stared into her eyes much longer, I’d lose myself. I turned my gaze away, staring instead at her raised arm, her hand still tucked so delicately against my face.

Then my eyes narrowed, and she jerked away. But on her upper arm were five stark bruises, pale purple imprints dug into her bicep. Like a hand, as if someone had grabbed her so hard it hurt.

The edges of my vision went blurry.

“Who hurt you?” I hissed. She was trying to edge back from me again but had nowhere to go. She grasped her arm, her palm swiftly covering the bruises, but the sight of them was burned into my mind. Crowding her, arms braced on either side so she couldn’t slip away from me, I insisted, “Who fucking hurt you? Give me their name.”

“It was just a boy –”

“Give metheir name, Everly.”

“Sam,” she blurted. “Sam Hawthorne.” Her eyes widened, as if she regretted speaking at all.

Leaping off the bed, I gave her one last fond look before bidding farewell. “Very good, my lady. That’s all I needed to know. So long as you stay in this room, you will be perfectly safe until my return. Don’t worry.” I nodded my head toward the low table in front of the fireplace and the cloche-covered platter on top of it. “The house will provide.”

Then, before my rage overtook me entirely, I teleported away.

6

Callum

The smells of the forest greeted me as I flew from the house. Lightning flashed in the ominous clouds, the air crackling with energy. Cold rain pelted my face and streaked down my wings, but I kept rising, higher and higher through the clouds until I burst above.

The starry sky was soft as velvet and twinkling, the stars like diamonds catching the light of the full moon.

How fitting, that the night of my release would coincide with the fullness of the moon’s beauty.

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