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EMILY
Irecognized the cabin, but I couldn’t place it from where.
As I walked about, I tried to remember, to place where I’d seen it before. I could see it in my mind, but I came up blank as to the how. Like when you could remember a song from a movie but couldn’t remember which movie.
Morgan made a drink, and even a joke, and we clinked glasses before Morgan sipped from hers. But I was too distracted by the familiarity of the cabin to drink.
Where had I seen it?
Then, it hit me.
It hit me smack dab in the face like I’d run into a brick wall.
Samara.
This was Samara’s cottage. I’d seen it in the vision from the Ancient One. How did Morgan—
Oh, shit.
All the pieces began to fall into place. That was why the cottage looked so old, like it hadn’t been used in centuries. Why Kellan’s pack knew where we were that night. And probably why Griffin had been so sick—she was always making drinks.
Morgan was working with Samara.
I couldn’t let her see my reaction. If she brought me all the way here, there was a reason, and I doubted it was good. She had a plan and it probably started with that drink she made me.
I held the glass in my hand, the condensation from the liquid wetting my fingertips. The temptation to throw the glass and shatter it was strong, but I had to play it cool, like I didn’t know a thing.
I traipsed about the cottage, looking for another exit, developing my own plan for how to escape. Even if I got out of the cottage, then what? Where would I go? I was hours away from home, with no reception, and the guys were still in their wolf form.
I was alone, truly dependent on my own abilities.
I pretended to admire the cottage as I scanned the room. There was a bedroom in the back and a bathroom in the tiny hallway. That was it. No other doors. Only a small window in the bathroom.
“Aren’t you going to drink?” Morgan asked, holding up her cup in encouragement.
Hell no.“Maybe in a bit. My stomach is a little queasy.”
I could feel the sting from her narrowed eyes as she watched me skeptically. I needed to figure something out fast before she caught on. She was already watching me from the corner of her eyes, and even when she turned away, I could see her watching me through the reflection in the mirror on the opposite side of the room.
“Emily,” she said, her tone dark and ominous, losing the bright demeanor it held earlier. “You look thirsty.” Her words were more of a threat.
She knew.
She knew I knew.
Our eyes locked, and it was a standstill. Both of us were calculating our moves in silent anticipation of who would strike first.
In a swift motion, I darted toward the bathroom but hit a barrier that Morgan put up, trapping me in place. She crept closer, her eyes filled with detest, burning like two bright orbs. Her head tilted back, laughing a deep, menacing chuckle. “Not as slick as you thought you were.”
“Slicker than you thought,” I spat, using my power to send a small rush of water over the bottom of her legs, reaching up to her ankles. From an outside perspective, it looked pathetic—like a tiny little chicken against a big, bad fox in the henhouse.
Her head tilted and she laughed, sneering. “Really? Is that all you got?”
What Morgan failed to realize was that chickens had claws, too. I twisted my hand, turning the water at her feet to ice, locking her into place. “Cadere!” I shouted, bringing her down to the wooden floorboards beneath her. While she was down, I sent another puddle of water, freezing her hands to the floor, as well.
I knew using a wave to knock her down would exhaust too much of my power. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure if I could freeze the ice. I tried it on a whim, and fortunately, it was successful. But now that she was down, where would I go?
I pushed past her barrier, using my magic to force it away, and ran through the front door. Just as I reached the edge of the woods, I heard Morgan’s voice echoing through the night. “Emily!”
