Dark Promise (Darkhaven Saga #3) - Danielle Rose Page 0,30

forward.

The surprised witch screams and attempts to protect herself, but it’s too late. He mimicked her air blasts and sent his directly to her heart. She falls to the ground, her legs buckling awkwardly beneath her. Her head slams against the frozen ground, and her lifeless eyes stare at me. I loathe the accusations there, so I look away, instead finding comfort in the other witches’ disbelief.

They stare at Will as if he too is floating. They expected magic from me, but now they know there is another half-breed. I’m not sure if I should be happy the witches fear us or if I should worry about the target etched into Will’s back. I fear he will regret coming to Darkhaven.

I exhale sharply as the witches retreat, choosing to abandon their fallen. Though I’m not surprised by the witches’ actions, I feel sorrow for their dead. Why does abandonment come so naturally to them?

“You shouldn’t have done that,” I whisper.

With my magic now safely tucked inside my soul, I grow stronger. Still weakened by the attack, I push away from Will’s embrace and find comfort in the distance I put between us. I’m grateful for his help, but I’m still not sure if I can trust him. I want to believe I can, and after everything he’s done, he deserves my trust. But I’m living in a time of war, and trust is not easily given.

“They made my decision for me,” Will says. “It was them or us.”

I glance at him and notice the darkness in his eyes. I wonder if it’s hard for him to kill a witch—since he once was one. Or has time hardened him to the realities of this life as a hybrid creature?

“They’ll never forgive you for this,” I warn.

“I don’t expect their forgiveness.”

I consider explaining what it means to have a target on your back in Darkhaven, where there are more witches than humans, but I don’t bother. I’m guessing Will has been alive a lot longer than me, and in that time, he’s probably made enemies. Still, he risked his life to save mine. That must mean something.

“Thank you,” I say softly, sincerely.

“You’re too young to be harnessing that much power, Ava,” Will warns.

I nod. Holland warned me about this too. If I tap into too much too soon, I risk death.

“I can’t control how much comes out,” I explain. “It just happens.”

“I know, and it will get easier. Control comes with time.”

I sigh, letting his words wash over me. The vampires, and even Holland, have said this very same thing to me many times before, but I never believed them. Not until Will, someone who truly understands, said them. Knowing I’m living through the hardest parts right now somehow makes this transition easier.

“They’ll come back,” Will says, scanning the trees around us. “We need to leave.”

I nod and stare into the distance. I can still see them running away from us and toward the village. They retreat, and the predator within me wants to follow, to hunt them down one by one.

I look around at the massacre. The snow is stained crimson, and the euphoric scent of blood coats the air.

The witches are dead, and I know I should fear the repercussions of what happened here tonight.

But I don’t.

Chapter Nine

The silence of the night is unnerving. The forest has never been so calm, so quiet. The loneliness of walking these grounds after every sunset begins to mount.

Is this what my life has become? An endless stream of days sleeping and nights fighting my enemies? A life of watching my back and praying I see the next day? Of watching my step and tracking the shadows? What kind of life is that? Am I even living?

I glance over at Will, who’s become suspiciously silent himself. I find myself matching his stride as we venture closer to the manor, where my vampire allies await my return. Will they welcome Will as I have? Will they trust him? Should I trust him? The constant questions and second-guesses are making my head hurt. In a town full of enemies lurking around every corner, I really should know who to fear, who to trust.

In my heart, I believe Will doesn’t intend to hurt me, but I never expected Mamá to forsake me either. I keep wondering who to trust without asking if I can even trust myself. Can I count on my gut, my senses? Or will they betray me too?

“Have you given my request more thought?”