Her shoulders stiffened. How did she know all of that? Just how long had this…thingbeen watching her?
She shook her head. “It’s not your business how I live.”
“Poor little Ro, always on the outside looking in at all the bright pretty people with their bright pretty lives. You know the hunger I feel. You know it deep down in your bones.”
“I don’t,” she insisted, turning her head to the right. There was definitely movement there.
“No? What happened with your witch hunter then? That felt like hunger.”
She was silent, listening. The soft scuff of a bare foot on stone. Closer.
“He’s very handsome. So strong and brave. He’s so good you can see his light even from the other side. Most people are murky, but not that one. He’s blessed. Not like you.”
That shouldn’t hurt, coming from a demon, but it did.
“He’s a good man,” she said. “You should stay away from him.”
“Like you stayed away?” A low chuckle. “Couldn’t keep your hands off him, could you? I don’t blame you. Dark things are always drawn to light.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But she did. Oh, God, she did.
“The way you snared him…” A disgusting hum of appreciation. “I couldn’t have done it better myself.”
“It wasn’t a trap,” she snapped. “He wanted it too.”
A flush heated her skin. Shame poured through her that Asher was hearing all of this. What must he be thinking?
“He wanted it,” the witch agreed. “You turned that nicely against him.”
It was a lie. She knew it was a lie. But lies cut deepest when they held a grain of truth, and this one stung.
“I don’t want to destroy who he is,” she said. “That’s the difference between you and me.”
“Sweet child,” the witch said with another low laugh. So close. She had to be standing right in front of her. The air aroundher chilled. Goosebumps rose on her arms. “You could have him. You don’t have to deny yourself any longer. I can show you the way to have everything you’ve ever wanted.”
A cold finger touched her cheek and she knew she needed to move, but she couldn’t. Images flooded her mind. Hundreds of them in an instant. Her and Casrian in the biggest bed she’d ever seen. Satin sheets, that muscular body, his golden skin. Her mother smiling in the garden. Jarn in ruins. The mayor dead in the town square, blood leaking from his mouth. The people in Sulen on their knees. Casrian smiling at her like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. That one she couldn’t as easily push away.
“You could be so strong,” the witch whispered, cold breath drifting across her cheek. “Respected. Worshipped.”
“I don’t want to be worshipped.” What would she even do with a pack of worshippers?
“The trees call you daughter, but you smell like prey. So much power wasted on you. I will help you, little sapling. Together, we’ll change the world.”
A grunt and the witch rocked forward. Her finger fell away from Rowan’s cheek. There was a hiss of anger.
“Rowan,” Asher shouted at her. “Don’t let her get in your head.”
By the sound of it, he was holding the witch, or trying to, like they planned, but she couldn’t see a damn thing. There was the sound of a struggle right in front of her. She could kill Asher by mistake.
He cried out, and she dove forward. The chains on her wrists swung wildly until she hit fabric. She slapped the charm against the witch and spoke the word to activate it. “Cala.”
She held it there pressed against the fabric until it caught and started to burn, scorching the palm of her hand. She didn’t pull back. She couldn’t. As soon as she lost contact, the charm wouldfall to the ground and the flame would fail. You were meant to tuck the thing between firewood, not use it as a weapon. She smelled burning flesh, but there was only a small flare of light. Orange, glowing through her skin.
Good news—she wasn’t blind.
It was just enough light to see the gleam of shiny black eyes and dead white skin.
