CARINA
“Leave us.”
Immediately, Adalyn turns on her heel and heads out the doorway without glancing my way. Archer takes a longer time to obey; his strides slow while he stares hard at his mother. She isn’t looking his way, so she doesn’t notice the briefest flash of hatred that lightens his dark purple eyes into a shade more natural to our kind.
Interesting.
He takes another puff, and the scent of marijuana lingers after his exit. It’s with a curled lip that Sloane slams the door shut behind him and dispels the scent with another gesture.
Sloane, without the protection of her cloak—which hid many of her features—is intimidating. Classically, her beauty is unearthly. Hair that slices at her shoulders—black, due to the Darkness. Her face is slim, pointed, all sharp lines, though not unattractive. It gives the sense of not liking being questioned. Her eyes are the most striking—a dark purple like Adalyn’s and Archer’s, except a shade even darker, closer to black than purple. She’s slim and tall, her fitted dress pants and blouse imposing.
Magick seeps from her; it’s even stronger than Adalyn’s. It consumes the room, a sensation that crawls across my skin and suggests none of us will ever win against her.
She conjures a chair in black smoke, which she settles on. I, however, stay put, as my hands curl into the bedsheets and fight to slow my racing heart, the blood whooshing through my ears—which may distract from what’s next.
“Is Ryder okay?”
She seems confused by my question—or the fact I’ve distracted from her initial planned conversation. “It’s scary how much you’re her twin. I’m speaking of your real mother, of course. Hope you were aware of that tidbit of your past.”
By dropping the truth like this, she’s seeking a fissure between Mom and me—but she won’t find one.
“Is Ryder okay?” I repeat, refusing to answer anything else until receiving reassurance.
“That’s the wolf, I presume? He’s fine.”
Good.
“I’m sure you have many questions, and I’m prepared to answer every one.”
While I do have plenty—mainly about what exactly she wants—I neither confirm nor deny her presumption, because as a captive she’ll expect me to fight back, not play along to get the information I’m here for.
“You’re trying to turn me away from Hecate because of a war you believe in. What more is there?”
She rises to her feet with the grace of a willow tree. “Clearly, you’ll require convincing. Follow me.”
“Where?”
“To the truth. You assume I’m the villain, so allow me to prove otherwise. I’m simply trying to save us, and there’s nothing villainous in that.”
“You renounced the Goddess,” I murmur, believing that explains everything.
She releases a low, disagreeing grunt as she heads for the doorway. “Hecate gave up on Her daughters and sons by not preparing us for what’s to come.”
“You surrendered to Darkness.”
“Your High Priestess will have you believe black magick equates to evil, but I ask you, dear girl, where is the proof?”
“I…”Uh. I don’t know.
It’s written into our teachings that black magick is wicked. That it infects and corrupts a witch’s soul. That those who are Dark betray Hecate and nature and everything we hold dear. Other than texts, I’ve never witnessed proof of it…
My feet move, compelled to learn the truth, which makes Sloane smile a predator-worthy grin. “Thank you. If you choose to join us, this could be your bedroom. You may decorate and furnish it however you wish.”
She’s kidding? Taking about furnishing a room hours after kidnapping me? She’s more delusional than we all expected. As she starts out the room and down the hall, I inhale deeply, bracing for every possibility of what’s beyond this room.
For us,I remind myself.For Mom and the coven and witches all around.
Beyond the bedroom, my breath is stolen by nature at its finest—ethereal surroundings that are an entire level of magick, a hint of the Earth witches Sloane and her family used to be.
