Page 35

I wheel around.

There’s a wolf shifter sitting at the table with a clear view of the front door… and me. She’s beautiful, but in a warrior way. Her hair is long and dark, a few shades off from Kian’s, and braided over her shoulder. Her skin is golden, probably hard-won from days in the sun. She’s all sharp angles, but her face could be an angel’s. Full lips, high cheekbones. Her dark eyes… well, they’re filled with hate. Not really an angel characteristic, unless we’re talking about the Devil.

I know, without even seeing her move, that she’s probably killed a few witches.

Maybe more than a few.

But I register her words. They’re the same ones Kian said to me, trying to corral me into cooperation. But she says it with more menace… and glee. The smile behind her tone, the way she wants a reaction out of me, burns the fear right out of me.

I will not yield to a she-wolf.

“You look like a scared little deer in the headlights,” she observes. “What will you do with that knowledge, hmm? Maybe you’ll try to leave us?”

I narrow my eyes and shut the front door. It closes with a loud click, and it seems final even in my ears. An answer all by itself.

No, I’m not leaving.

Mainly because I can hear the howls of the pack outside the door, and if I ran, I think they’d catch me. And probably do more than just shepherd me back to safety.

One shifter in human form is better than a pack on the hunt. That’s what Kian convinced me of when he forced me onto the other pack’s territory. And I ended up with claws in my back, nonetheless.

“We don’t want you here,” she adds.

“I don’t think your alpha feels the same way.” I enter the kitchen.

She stiffens when I pull out the chair across from her and sink into it. If Kian wanted her to murder me, I doubt I would’ve made it out of bed. He told me to stay in the house, knowing she’s here. Which means as much as she might seem to want to kill me, I’m hoping she won’t.

There’s also the possibility that Kian is a stupid idiot, and he’s left me alone with a murderous she-wolf.

“What’s your name?” I ask.

She glowers at me. “You think I’m going to give you any information about me?”

“Why not? Aren’t wolves impervious to witch magic?” I wiggle my fingers in her direction. “We could test out a hex if you’re unsure…”

She scowls.

I hide my smile. She either tells me her name, or admits without saying that she’s afraid of whatever power I might have. I know it doesn’t amount to much at all, but she doesn’t.

Thinking about power shifts me back to thoughts of my mother and where she really is. If she’s with the demons, that means she didn’t save me—someone else did.

But who?

“Jessamine, if you’re so curious,” the wolf shifter says grudgingly.

“Astra.”

“I know.” The energy radiating off her in waves isn’t fear. It’s revulsion.

Just because of the Mark on my skin and the magic in my veins? Magic that I reach for and find… lacking. The earlier surge of it is gone, leaving me with exactly what I’ve known all my life.

My magic is practically nothing, especially compared to my mother’s. I should be okay with that, but instead, I feel hollow.

“Where did the demons take her?” I ask.

“I don’t know.” And even if she did, she wouldn’t tell me.

I imagine that’s what the smirk is for anyway.