“That’s what I want to know.” Grabbing my wrist, Tristan led me around the basin to the back of the goat-man. Painted on the statue’s back in blood were two crossed bones and a raven.
I squinted at it, leaning closer to get a better look—when a hard, muscled chest blocked my view.
Hard, assessing eyes flayed me from head to toe. “You know what that symbol is, don’t you?”
I tried to speak, but nothing came out. In the end, I shook my head.
“It’s the symbol of genocide, hound-tamer.” A deep, chilling thread weaved through his voice. “Before the wolves were banished to hell, my ancestors faced an enemy who would hunt down and slaughter whole packs—women, children, babies, everyone. At the scene of every tragedy, there wouldn’t be a single trace of the killers left behind, except... for this.
“Because that is the symbol of the witches.”
“But what—? Who—?”
“And you,” he plowed on, eyes sharpening, “were looking for those guys, weren’t you? Those dead fuckers oozing and emptying their bowels on that statue right now?”
Wait, what?I jerked, eyes bugging. “Tristan, no, I—”
He seized my shirt, yanking me clear off my feet and smashing his forehead against mine. “So, here’s my question—what the fuck are you and why are you here?”
Out of the corner of my eye, lethal, throat-shredding claws sprung from his fingertips.
“Wait—!”
“Witch-loving scum,” he growled—fangs sprouting. “Because of the people you worship, my people died! Because of them we’re trapped in this nightmare—cut off from the moon!”
“No!” I thrashed in his grip. “No, it’s not—!”
He held me out, his hand rising to deliver the fatal blow. Over his shoulder, a crow flew off his perch and flapped straight for us.
Lucifer? Wait, no! If he steps in, he might kill Tristan,my internal voice screamed.I can’t let that happen!
“BECAUSE OF YOU—!”
“I’m not a witch! I’m mortal,” I shrieked. “A humanmortalwoman with no trace of witchy powers at all!”
Tristan froze—his claws halting inches from my jugular. His wide-eyed gaping expression might have been funny—if there was anything funny about almost getting my throat ripped out next to the horrific massacre of the only people who knew where my sister was.
“What the— Did you just say— Ah,” he cried out, his hand flying to his head. “Ahh! Is this glamour magic? How did—?” He grimaced, gritting his teeth against the pain as they slowly became regular teeth again. Blinking at me, Tristan’s eyes cleared... and traveled down.
When he hauled me off the ground, he snatched my hem and bra—ripping them up to my chin. Right then, I could see a snake and two boobs clear as day... and so could he.
A furious blush exploded in his cheeks. He spun away, clapping his hands over his eyes, and dropped me.
A short scream, then my head conked against the cobblestones.
I drifted out just as he started shouting.
Chapter Seven
Ilay on the mattress, watching a big, strong, handsome wolf... flit around like a chicken with its head cut off.
“I’m sorry—so sorry that I—that I—” He glanced at my chest and then tore away, blushing even deeper. “If I’d known, I never would’ve—” The man stopped trying to finish a sentence, and then stopped trying to look at me altogether.
After witnessing that horrible scene in the courtyard, and then taking an impromptu ground nap, I woke up sometime later in what I assumed was Tristan’s dorm room.
Likely for the reasons Sabrina suggested, his room wasn’t as grand or fancy as mine. He had a simple full-sized bed with comfortable, but thin sheets. There was a desk and bookshelf in one corner, and an armchair in the other. There was also a door that I assumed led to a bathroom or closet, but nothing else. No fireplace, no expensive décor, no chandeliers, or raised platform for the bed. All in all, it was just a normal single room.
“Tristan, it’s okay,” I croaked. “You don’t have to keep apologizing.”
