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“That tends to happen when I’m not welcome to eat with the coven anymore.” I’m unable to keep the growl from my voice as I speak. Antonia bursts out laughing at my words, and I cringe. I know that laugh. That’s her ”I’m going to punish you” laugh.
“Yes, I suppose that’s true. I’ve always loved how resourceful you can be, my pet.” Her hand caresses my face momentarily before she steps back into the arms of a tall, blonde man with pale skin and bright blue eyes. “Speaking of love, I’d like you to meet Roman. He is the High Priest of the Sons of Ares and my chosen mate.”
I know that she wants me to react out of jealousy but seeing her in the arms of another man makes me feel nothing but relief that I am no longer needed to warm her bed.
“Nice to meet you,” I tell him, formally tipping my head in his direction. The shock on Antonia’s face makes me smile—on the inside of course. I have no idea why she’s so obsessed with keeping me as hers when she already has someone else.
“You too,” Roman says, pulling Antonia closer as if staking his claim on her.
She’s all yours, buddy. She’s more trouble than she’s worth.
“Now, my pet, what should we do with you?” Antonia steps out of Roman’s arms.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you broke the rules. You must be punished.”
“Punished? For getting myself food?”
“No, of course not. Punished for trying to escape.”
“I wasn’t.”
Antoniatsksat me.
“If my brother says you were trying to escape, then you were trying to escape.”
I don’t get another chance to protest as magical restraints are wrapped around my body, including my mouth, securing me to a tree. I struggle for a moment, but the second I see Zach’s fearful eyes I stop. I do not want to upset him any further than he already is.
Antonia follows my line of sight, her brows furrowing when she finds nothing. Zach is quick enough to slip behind one of the other coven members and out of sight.
“I think keeping you here until morning should suffice. When the sun rises, the binds will release,” Antonia says, spinning on her heel and heading away from me.
For the rest of the day, Anthony takes it upon himself to treat me like a special attraction. He is happy to play tour guide, bringing groups of people to see me helpless while I try to ignore them and rest as much as possible.
After hours of horrible sleep, I wake with a start as my body falls to the ground when the bindings suddenly release me.
“Ugh,” I grunt, stretching my body out. Sleeping while magically restrained to a tree isn’t good for the body. All my muscles are stiff, and there’s a crick in my neck that definitely wasn’t there before.
I sit up and look around, watching as the sun begins to rise over the horizon. I tilt my head to each side, doing my best to work out the pain there.
The first subtle light of the morning paints the sky in delicate shades of pink and orange, and the water’s surface mirrors these ethereal colors, as if nature itself is an artist at work. With bated breath, I watch as the sun's golden disk emerges from the horizon, casting a radiant path of light across the tranquil water. A large splash causes ripples in the mirrored images on the water and, without my consent, my body begins to move to the water's edge. I know deep in my soul what—or who—caused that splash.
As I walk, my bare toes run against something slimy. I look down to find two large perch lying on the beach. I lean down and scoop them up, scanning the water for my gorgeous mate.
I catch a glimpse of blue amongst the dark water, and a smile graces my face, knowing that these fish are a gift from her. I pucker my lips and blow her a kiss before turning back toward my little shack to cook the fish, thankful that I get another protein-filled meal that I don’t need to waste hours catching.
A full belly and a cold shower later, I take my time walking around the coven, looking at it with fresh eyes. I only see a few people roaming around, which makes one part of the escape plan easy. As I approach the cabin where they teach the children, I pull myself up and peek in the window.
I watch in horror as one of the middle-aged witches holds her hands up in front of Amelia as she strains against her magical restraints.
“I said do it.”
My sweet daughter whimpers.
“She’s trying, Miss,” Zach says, stepping between the witch and his sister,
“She’s not trying hard enough,” their teacher, Sabrina, chides.
