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Chapter Nine
Willow
I’m stripped of what clothes still cling to my fur and tossed into a one-room cottage with bare log walls and no furniture aside from a small, crooked wooden bench in front of a stone fireplace filled with old-timey cooking implements.
I land lightly on my paws and spin immediately back toward the entrance, but the door has already slammed shut and no doubt been locked from the outside.
A quick prowl around the rest of the room reveals one other door—locked—and only two windows, both near where the ceiling peaks in an upside-down V overhead.
I cock my head, studying the frames, which are set into the logs at odd, forty-five-degree angles.
For a moment, I think my eyes are playing tricks on me, but then the door opens and closes behind me again and my sister says, “They’re called witch windows. The early settlers put them in crooked on purpose. They thought it kept witches from flying into the house on their brooms at night.”
I glance over my shoulder, my eyes narrowing on hers.
She lifts her hands in the air, playing innocent, though we both know she’s anything but.
She holds a wad of wrinkled fabric in one hand but appears unarmed. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I understand witches don’t ride brooms, but you know how humans are. They love their folklore.”
I sit back on my haunches and lift my blood-smeared snout into the air.
If I were concerned about being polite, I’d shift and pick up my end of the conversation. But I couldn’t give less of a shit about manners right now, and I have nothing to say to this stranger who set off a bomb in a theater full of innocent people and arranged to have me kidnapped by creeps.
Her expression softens and sadness flickers in her eyes. “I’m sorry, okay? I wanted to come for you myself, or at least give orders for the guys to tell you what they were up to. But we couldn’t risk it. If the plan had failed and you were returned to Maxim, we didn’t want him to know we sent the team to fetch you. It would have compromised future rescue attempts and getting you and Diana out of there was our top priority.”
I make a gurgling sound low in my throat.
Kelley arches a brow. “Was that a derisive laugh or an outraged snort? I get that you’re pissed, Willow, but I still don’t have any telepathic ability. If you want to give me a piece of your mind, you’re going to have to shift.” Her shoulders inch closer to her ears as she holds the wrinkled dark brown fabric out between us. “I brought you a dress. It isn’t much, but it’s clean and will look pretty with your hair.”
I come out of my fur so fast it stings my skin and leaves a painful crick in my neck.
I clutch at the tight muscle as I snap, “You think I give a shit about looking pretty right now? You brought me here against my will and are holding me prisoner, all after nearly a decade of not a fucking word from you. I thought you were dead,” I say, tears rising in my eyes despite the anger rampaging through my veins. “I mourned you,” I add in a thicker voice. “And I missed you every damned day.”
Her eyes begin to shine, too. “I missed you, too. So much. But we’re together now, and I can explain everything if you’ll just give me the chance, Lolo.”
I flinch at the old nickname. “Don’t call me that. That’s not who we are anymore.”
“I’m still your sister,” she insists, moving slowly closer. “And you are still so important to me. That’s why I had to get you out of there, honey, before he hurt you.”
“Maxim wouldn’t hurt me,” I say, but even I can hear the lie in my tone, so I hurry to add, “At least not like this. He pisses me off, but he doesn’t scare me.”
“Well, he should,” she says, holding out the dress.
It’s so close now that it nearly touches my arm. Figuring I should save my energy to fight about serious shit, I snatch it from her with a frustrated huff and pull it on.
It falls around me, soft and pleasantly heavy, and I grudgingly say, “Thanks, but I want my other clothes back. I won’t be staying long, and this isn’t practical for travel.”
She sighs and crosses her arms at her chest. “Let’s have a talk first, okay? Let me explain everything, make sure you have all the facts, and then we can chat about when—or if—you want to leave.”
I’m about to tell her that there is no question about if—only when—when the door opens again and an ancient woman with silver hair in a long braid and a brown dress very much like what I’m wearing steps into the cabin.
Her pale gray eyes meet mine across the small space and she smiles. “Hello, Willow. I’m Elsbeth. I’ve been waiting for you for a very long time.”
My brows pinch together.
The name is unusual, but familiar for some reason.
I’m on the verge of pulling the memory from my mental files when the old woman adds, “I stole the Orphan’s Sword from the Thorn family many years ago, hoping to unite the shifter factions. But I was young and impulsive and didn’t have enough allies on my side.” She moves slowly across the bare wood boards, beaming at me the entire way. “But now we have you and your sister and the sword and an entire army at our backs. We won’t fail this time, dear girl. Soon, we’ll have peace and prosperity in our world unlike anything we’ve known in centuries. A queen will rise again, and our people will rejoice.”
