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The thud of boots echoed outside the door, then Rocco, one of the Knights of Hell, walked in. He and his mate were Willow’s good friends, and they’d become friends to us as well.

Nia ran over to greet him, and the big half demon, half angel, gave her the pats she wanted as he took in the room. His brows lowered. “What’s this about, Wills?”

Trotman stepped forward. “Thank you for coming in, Mr. Rocco.”

Rocco frowned. “Just Rocco. Who the fuck are you?”

“I am Councilor Trotman from the Roxburgh witch’s council,” he added. “Something has come to light, and we’ve been told you might be able to help us confirm it.”

What the fuck was this?

Roc crossed his arms and looked to Willow again. She said nothing. I assumed they weren’t allowed to. I looked at Willow as well, and she couldn’t hold my stare. My heart, which was already pounding, raced faster.

“Okay, I’m listening,” Roc said.

“A year ago, you and your mate…”

Rocco snarled, looking pissed off now. “What the fuck is this?”

Trotman held up his hands. “I assure you we are no threat to your mate, Mr.…er, Rocco. This is just a witness statement.”

Rocco stared at the much smaller male, and he didn’t look happy. He was extremely protective of his mate—all the knights were—they were like shifters that way, and he didn’t like his mate being brought into this, whatever this was.

Councilor Trotman took Roc’s silence as a get-the-hell-on-with-it and started again. “A year ago, you and your mate traveled to Salem, is that correct?”

Rocco looked to Willow again, and again she gave him nothing. His frown deepened. “Yes.”

“Willow gave you a map, which led you to a rock? A rock holding a dagger that was being protected by wolf shifters?”

“Willow?” Roc said.

“It’s okay, tell him,” she said.

Roc frowned harder and turned back to Trotman. “Yeah, there were wolf shifters guarding it.”

“What happened when you got there?” Trotman asked him.

“We got the dagger, and one of the wolves got me to hold the map up to the moon. Some kind of spell was broken.”

“Did he say anything to you?” the councilor asked.

Rocco’s jaw worked. “He said they’d been trapped there…by Willow’s coven. I don’t know how long for.”

“Where’s the dagger now?”

“Safe,” Rocco said, and his eyes narrowed. “And if someone wants it, they’ll have to go through Lucifer himself to get it.”

“No, no, we’re happy for the dagger to remain where it is.” Trotman looked pale. “Thank you for your help.”

Willow grabbed Roc’s arm and led him back out. I could hear his deep voice as they left, wanting to know what the fuck was going on. He wasn’t the only one.

They were talking about Draven and his warriors. They were the wolves guarding that rock.

This had something to do with me, it had to.

“You can’t do this,” Mags yelled at Trotman. “Females aren’t chattel anymore, you sexist pig.” Mags started fighting Bram’s hold.

Chattel?