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“I’m going to check if everything is ready.” There’s a brief pause, and I feel the pinprick of someone’s stare on me again. “Are you going to be able to keep her subdued by yourself?”
A feminine snort answers him, and I get the distinct impression that the female is offended by his suggestion. “You forget who I am. I can handle a half-blood.”
He clicks his tongue, and I can just imagine him shaking his head at the female with a stern expression. “She’s not just a regular half-blood though. Remember that.” With that warning, he storms out of the room, slamming a door behind him.
The temperature becomes noticeably warmer now that he’s left, my extremities tingling as they heat up and begin to regain sensation. I have so many questions, although my most pressing one right now is if I’m in danger, and how I’m going to ‘wake up’ to my surroundings.
“You can stop pretending to be asleep now.” The female’s voice is amused, like she could read my mind or had known for a while that I was awake for their entire conversation.
My whole body stiffens at being caught out. However, there’s no point in continuing this charade now. Warily, I peel open my eyes and take in my immediate surroundings. I’m sprawled out on a chaise lounge, and the room I’m in is richly furnished, but I’m too busy scanning the area for threats to take in details. These people have taken me from my family and mates, and I have no idea why, so until I get answers, I’m going to treat them with hesitance.
Pushing myself upright so I’m sitting on the edge of the seat, I wince at the pain in my thawing legs, but I’m soon distracted as my gaze is drawn to the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life. She’s curvy, with a perfect hourglass figure, and has long, luxurious, curly hair as dark as the night itself. Her eyes, though, stand out the most. They are silver. Not grey, but glimmering silver, shimmering in the warm light of the room. She wears a daring, deep green gown that hugs her figure like a second skin, the plunging neckline displaying her generous cleavage. It’s the sort of outfit that I’d never have the courage to wear and would probably just look like a child playing dress up.
She watches me right back, the corner of her mouth pulled up into a half grin as she takes in my surprise and confusion. Leaning against a pale stone pillar, she exudes confidence, her body relaxed, and I get the impression she’s trying to put me at ease. Unlike her male companion who stalked from the room, she doesn’t seem concerned about who, or what, I am. This is either because she knows she’s stronger than me, or she doesn’t think I’m a threat.
She’s made no move towards me, and I don’t think she plans to. If they wanted to hurt me, they could have done it while I was unconscious and vulnerable. I also can’t forget that she convinced the male to release me from the ice that was containing my legs, something she didn’t have to do. Sure, it could all be a ploy to make me trust her and then deceive me later, but my instincts are saying I’m safe—at least for the moment.
Of course, there are many things about this whole situation that can’t be explained naturally. A niggling, sinking feeling settles in my gut as all of this adds up in my mind, bringing me to an alarming conclusion, but I don’t want to admit to myself who these people are—not yet.
Now that I’ve assured myself that the beautiful female isn’t going to hurt me, I allow myself to look away from her and take in the room we’re in. The walls are made of pale stone, with several decorative pillars dotted in strategic places. Following them up, I find high, arched ceilings far grander than anything I’ve stayed in before. The room isn’t huge, but with the ceiling so high and the stone walls mostly bare, bar a few paintings of flowers, I’d expect it to feel cold. However, taking up most of one wall is a huge fireplace with a roaring fire, chasing the chill from my bones.
My first impression of the room had been spot-on. Rich furnishings fill the space, including a large leather sofa and a carved dining table complete with candelabras, and thick, dark grey rugs cover the wooden floor. A large, hand-carved sideboard made of dark wood has several trinkets atop it, yet nothing gives any clue as to where I am.
The female has remained silent while I examine the room, and as I glance back over at her, I catch a flash of sympathy in her eyes before she quickly covers it with that cocky half-smile once more.
I open my mouth to speak, my cheeks flushing when I only manage a dry croak. I hoped to sound confident and commanding, but instead I probably seem like a little girl. Frustrated, I clear my throat and try again. “Where am I?”
She examines me carefully for a moment, as though contemplating her next words, before walking over to the dining table where a jug and several glasses await. Pouring clear liquid into a glass, she walks over and holds it out for me to take. “You’re at Haven.”
Haven. She says it as though I should know what, or where, that is, and although something twinges within me at the name, I know I’ve never heard of it or been here before. Why does the name feel so familiar?
I stare at the offered glass, unsure what to do. Although it looks like water, I have no way of knowing for sure unless I try it, and for all I know, it could be drugged. It seems unlikely that they would trick me into drinking something that would drug me when they’ve already abducted me, and if I refuse it and it was just a gesture of good will, then she might take offence to my reaction. While it might be a completely valid response given the circumstances, I still don’t know who these people are or what they want from me.
I meet her eyes, and I see understanding shining back at me. I take the glass, nodding my head in silent thanks, and she moves back over to the pillar. Lifting it to my nose, I try to be subtle as I sniff the liquid to look for anything unusual, but I know I’ve not managed it from her snort.
Refusing to be embarrassed, I lower the glass and look at her head-on. “Haven,” I repeat, my voice stronger now. “Should I know what that is?”
She raises a brow, her surprise showing on her face and breaking through the careful mask she’s been wearing. “You—” There’s clearly more that she wants to say, but she stops herself with a shake of her head, seeming to remember who I am. “It’s a safe place for witches. The queen will explain everything to you.”
She says it to comfort me, a slight smile softening her expression, but it only fills me with dread as one word spins through my mind.
Witches. My sinking feeling had been right. Really, there was no other explanation, considering how they brought me here, spelled me into a deep sleep, and then contained me in ice. I just hadn’t been willing to acknowledge these facts, or what that could mean for me.
As I replay her words, I’m filled with even more questions. However, it’s the answers she didn’t give that I’m more interested in. I’m being fed the basic, safe information. What was she going to say before she cut herself off? This is the second mention of a queen now in a short span of time. There are no human queens who rule the land we live in back home, and certainly none within werewolf society, which means one thing.
“The Queen… of Witches?” I ask slowly, speculatively, as if I can hardly believe that I’m asking the question. My stomach drops, and my hands become clammy as she nods in response. Swallowing against the lump in the back of my throat, I gesture towards her. “You’re a witch?”
It’s become pretty damn obvious that’s exactly what she is, but she doesn’t point out the stupidity of my question. Instead, she shakes her head, a frown pulling at her brow.
“Your education is sorely lacking considering who you are,” she points out, and then she snorts with disgust at my obvious confusion. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised the wolves taught you nothing.”
Considering who I am… What the hell is she talking about? Before I can ask any questions and demand she explain herself, she crosses her arms over her generous chest and lets out a quiet sigh.
“Yes, I’m a witch. All of us here are witches.”
Including me. The unspoken words echo loudly in my mind, and I feel the blood drain from my face, my palms becoming sweaty. There’s a question in her eyes, and I know she’s wondering how I seem to know so little when it’s rapidly becoming clear that at least part of me is like them. I’ve been accused of being a witch by the council, and I knew I had magic, I couldn’t hide that, yet I’ve been so adamant that I’m a werewolf, that my place is with the wolves and my pack. It’s why I fought so hard in the trials. However, I don’t think I can ignore the facts any longer.
“I only found out that I wasn’t a full-blooded wolf about six weeks ago. I don’t know anything about the other part of my heritage. Is that why I’m here?” I don’t know why I’m telling her this, and I hate the note of vulnerability in my voice. Lifting my gaze, I meet her silver eyes.
