Page 9 of Freed By the Witchbone Knife

“He didn’t hit me.”

“I don’t fucking care Becs! He was rough with you. It was—” Her words died in a feminine growl. “If I had more magic, I would turn him into a slug and smash him under my boot. I knew I should have punched him in the nose when I had the chance.”

I blew out a long breath.

It was Vera who’d found us. Maybe Ambrose would have hit me if she hadn’t stepped in. I’d been afraid that he might. There was this look in his eye that promised retribution. Enough to make me feel entirely unsafe.

The irony was, I could have used my magic to break free from him. But the price was steep. All because of a curse his family had cast on mine generations ago.

No one knows exactly why they did it. Rumors pointed to jealousy. Both the Millers and Blackthorns had seats on the Supernatural Council generations ago. The Blackthorns were jealous of our family’s power. Some sort of drama happened, and they used blood magic to stifle our power. We’re born powerful, but by adulthood there’s almost nothing left.

It’s cruel.

“Have you had any luck?” Vera asked, changing the subject. “With the knife?”

“No luck whatsoever. Well, I take it back. My detector confirmed there are lunarium caves here. I got tons of readings. But…”

“But what?”

“So…there was this werewolf?”

“A werewolf?!”

I told her about Axel and spent the next twenty minutes describing what an asshole he was.

When she finally hung up, returning to her shift, I felt a million times better.

I sent another text to Robbie, trying to suss out if he was my traitor sibling now that Vera was absolved. I received no answer. Which meant, as far as I was concerned, he was definitely guilty.

I needed to cool down before I sent him ten thousand angry voicemails.

I removed Basil from my lap, laid down on the floor, and let both bunnies give me a facial. Bunnies were expert groomers. And since I was their person, they wanted nothing more than to clean my entire face. They paid extra attention to my eyes, their tiny warm tongues working overtime.

A laugh burst from my chest and I felt instantly better.

It wasn’t until I was leaving campus Friday afternoon that my phone vibrated with an incoming call. I fumbled around in my bag before lifting it to my ear. “Damn it, Robbie. It’s about time⁠—”

“Rebecca.”

I went rigid, every muscle in my body locked tight. I pulled the phone from my ear and looked at the screen. The number wasn’t one I recognized. But the voice? “What number are you me calling from?”

“That doesn’t matter. Enough with your games, Rebecca. Cease this childish behavior before you embarrass both our families.”

Indignation was enough to overcome my nerves. I took off at a brisk pace, needing to simply…move. “Childish? You’re joking, right?”

“Our parents expect⁠—”

“Ambrose, we’re not engaged.”

“We are⁠—”

“No. I never agreed to an engagement. I don’t care what my parents told you.”

“You don’t have a choice, Rebecca. You want your family’s curse removed? I’m offering that.”

“Oh, that’s what you’re offering, is it?”

“How can you be so selfish?”