A promise.
And the hunt began.
Chapter 21 - Dani
They had been marched north for hours.
The forest changed as they went, taller pines, older spruces, underbrush thinning until it was little more than roots and frost-crusted stones. The witches were kept in a loose formation, ringed by hybrids who moved with unnerving precision. Not wolves. Not human. Something else.
Dani kept count.
Seven witches from Salem. Three from Juneau. Edith at her side, breathing hard but steady, her eyes narrowed to slits. Four nomads, one barely nineteen, her teeth chattering so loudly it echoed off the trees.
And Fenred. Always Fenred.
He walked at the front, relaxed, almost bored, as though the leash around his prisoners was nothing more than a morning chore. His boots cracked through frost. Every so often, he glanced back, eyes bright with a wrong, metallic shimmer.
Hybrid eyes.
Dani kept her shoulders square, chin lifted. Every nerve screamed at her to run, but she wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.
Midday bled into afternoon. Snow began to fall, thin, drifting flakes that stuck to hair and lashes. Dani’s wrists ached where rough rope cut skin. Every breath was sharp, cold, too dry.
At last, Fenred raised a hand.
The hybrids halted instantly.
“Rest,” he said flatly.
It wasn’t an offer. They were shoved into a clearing ringed by dead branches and leaning trunks. Dani sank to her knees, trying not to show how numb her legs had gone. Edith dropped beside her with a grimace, muttering something rude under her breath about shifter stamina.
Two hybrids threw down a handful of blankets, thin fabric, barely enough to keep the snow off. The witches ignored them.
Fenred crouched by a fallen log, elbows on his knees, studying them like a man evaluating livestock.
Dani lifted her head, eyes sharp with fury. “How long?” she demanded, voice rough. “How long have you been hiding what you are?”
Fenred didn’t bother pretending he didn’t understand. He smiled, slow, curling. “A while.”
“That’s not an answer,” Dani snapped.
“Does it matter?” he asked, shrugging. “You’re here. It worked.”
One of the Juneau spat into the snow. “You walked among us. Ate with us. Took orders from your alpha.”
“Alphas,” he scoffed. “Arthur? Dominic? Rory? Leonid? They think they understand strength.” His eyes glinted. “They have no idea what’s coming.”
Dani felt Edith’s shoulder brush hers, a silent warning.Don’t rise to him.
She ignored it.
“What are you?” Dani asked, voice steady. “You weren’t born hybrid. You smelled like a wolf for years.”
Fenred considered her.
Then he said something that made the clearing tilt.
“Witches make hybrids.”
