The one thing I do know is that I’m scared shitless of going with him.
“Please don’t resist,” he says softly. “I don’t want this to get ugly.”
My panic level shoots up a notch, and fear grabs me by the throat, almost choking the breath out of me. I nod, trying to hide the tears in my eyes.
“I’ll just… get my purse.”
To my surprise, Rafe follows me into the hall and watches me collect my stuff, then lets me go ahead of him as we leave the house and walk out to the car. I can’t escape the feeling that I’m being taken prisoner before even getting a trial.
Or knowing what the fuck I’ve done.
“Can you tell me what this is about?” I ask as we pull out onto the street.
“It will be better if you just do as you’re told for now,” he says. “The council will explain everything.”
“Will Owen be there?” I ask, my voice sounding small and trembly, like a little kid’s.
“As I said, he’s been notified. It’s up to him if he wishes to attend.”
I shrink down in my seat, trying not to cry. I manage not to lose control of myself, but a few tears streak down my cheeks. Even though I keep my face turned towards the window, I think Rafe notices my tears, anyway.
We drive through the outskirts of town onto a quiet country road. After following it a short way, Rafe turns into what looks like a solid line of trees. I sit up suddenly, afraid that he’s about to kill us, but the car moves easily through a small gapbetween two impressively thick tree trunks, and on the other side, I can see the narrow track we’re following.
The dirt road loops and turns, fully surrounded by scrub at all times. When the cover finally peels back, the sharp, dark shape of a building rises to block out the sky. I shrink down in my seat as it rises above us and we drive into its dark shadow.
This is a bad place.
Stones crunch under the tires as we pull up out front. I take in the details of the house, realizing it could be quite pretty, but instead, it just drips with bad vibes.
“Okay,” Rafe says. “We’re here. I need you to come inside.”
“In there?” I protest.
“Yes. The council is waiting.”
Rafe gets out. I try to follow, but my hands are shaking so badly that I can hardly turn the door handle. He opens it from the outside, and I try to get out of the car without tripping over my trembling knees.
Rafe doesn’t say anything as he gets behind me and practically herds me towards the house. When I open the big, heavy door, pain shoots through my chest as if my fear has become a living thing and something is warning me not to go inside.
Terrible things happened here.
“To the left,” Rafe says.
I look around the foyer, and even though it all looks pretty hostile, the hall to the left is definitely the worst. Rafe shuts the front door behind us and directs me down the hall, following behind me so I can’t turn back.
With every step, my fear grows. Sweat pours down my sides, and my heart flutters up into my throat. By the time we reach the small room at the end of the hall, my mouth is brick-dry and my chest is aching with tension.
“Stand at the end of the table, please,” Rafe says.
I walk slowly into the room, approaching the massive, gleaming table where five others are sitting, three women and two men. Rafe takes a seat amongst them, and I stand at the foot of the table, exposed to their scrutiny.
“We are the Council of Elders,” one of the women says. “And you’ve been called here to answer accusations of treason.”
“What?” I murmur, my voice caught in my throat. “I don’t understand.”
“We just want to hear your side of the story,” one of the men says gently. He doesn’t smile, but he looks at me encouragingly. The woman by his side glares at him harshly.
“You used magic against wolves,” she almost spits. “It was bad enough when we thought you were human, but this! Another cursed witch! How can this be?”
