She swept out her hands. “We’re both still standing here. I knew it was a risk, but I thought it was worth it.”
“It’s not worth your fucking life. I can’t go back to your mother and tell her you didn’t make it out. I won’t do that.”
“I accepted the risk when I took the job. My mother believes God called me to do it. She won’t blame you. You don’t have to worry about me. I’m not your responsibility. I’m not one of your men. I’m not your kinswoman. I’m not your lover. Not really. I’m nothing to you.”
For some reason that only pissed him off more. “You are not nothing.”
She fell silent for a moment.
“Just forget you saw it,” she said finally. “I can take you to your men. They’re so close. I can feel it.”
“You can feel it?” he scoffed. “Because of the blood spell? You can’t trust in your feelings out here. This is how women are snared by demons—by thinking they have control when they don’t.”
“I am in control.Me.Not a witch. Not a demon. We follow this trail, find your patrol, and kill the witch. Then you can leave and you can forget this ever happened.”
“You think we should follow the blood spell deeper into the woods?”
“I think we should follow the trail I found for you. What I did… It’s not even a spell. It’s just something I can do like…”
She bit her lip, catching the words. But Casrian didn’t miss that. Of course he didn’t. He took a step closer, looming over her. Catching her jaw, he forced her face up. “Likewhat?”
She tried to jerk away, but his fingers tightened, holding her in place.
He already thought she was a witch. He might as well know the whole truth if he was going to brand her anyway.
“Like listening to the woods,” she told him, feeling like she was baring her neck to his blade. “That’s how we’ve gotten so far without getting trapped in the rot. Not all of the trees are infected. Some of them are still healthy. They’re still safe to talk to. They want the witch gone as much as we do.”
Casrian stared at her for a moment and then swept his gaze around the woods like the trees might actually raise their woody clubs and come after them. When his gaze settled on her again, he said softly, “When did you cast such a spell?”
“It’s not a spell! It doesn’t even trigger the witchstone.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s something I’ve always been able to do. My mother says to block it out. To ignore it. To pray for release. But it’s still there, and it’s not evil. I don’t care what you say.I’mnot evil. It has nothing to do with demons. This is just something I’ve been able to do since I was a toddler. Was I a witch then? Are you going to start killing babies too?”
He paled. “You must be nearly full-blooded fae.”
“I’m not. You’ve met my mother. I’m just me. The same as I’ve always been. I haven’t hurt anyone.”
An image came to her of the dead man, but she pushed it ruthlessly aside. There’d been no witchcraft involved in his death. Not from her.
His expression hardened. “Have you bewitched me?”
Oh, that hurt. Tears sprang to her eyes at the sting of it, but she blinked them back. “How can you ask that?”
“It would explain everything.”
“What are you talking about?”
But there was a strange look in his eyes, bemused and tormented all at once. His thumb stroked the side of her neck. “I should be focused on finding my men and killing the witch, but all I can think about is you—the silk of your skin and the scent of your cunt, the look on your face as you come apart. It would be easier to believe you were putting those thoughts in my head.”
“Fuck you, Casrian.”
He breathed a laugh. “If I fuck you, does it release me from your spell?”
“There’s no spell.”
His hands moved up her neck to cradle her face. He tipped her head back. “Are you sure about that?” He searched her face, eyes dark with hunger. “You feel it too. I know you do.”
