Witch Born - LJ Swallow Page 0,1
my family never gave a crap about anything but their success in creating me. I spent my childhood dragged around the covens forced to perform every school of magic. 'Look at Eloise, the clever elemental witch who can control minds too'.
I have a rare ability to wield both elemental magic and spirit magic, but I have a third skill that's rarer still.
One that's landed me with an unknown future in a living hell.
Chapter Two
The walk to the building continues in silence, and I'm out of breath when we reach the crest of the hill. The sea batters the rocks below, a constant reminder to all inmates about the power the water holds. Water repulses vamps; they could never cross the sea if they attempted to leave the island.
The long swim to the Scottish mainland in ice waters would cause hypothermia and death for most others. If the stronger elemental witches bonded together, they could probably create a bridge of ice to cut a path through the sea. Unfortunately for them, that's impossible, because Ravenhold neutralises their magic.
This means the shifters have no chance either, even those with aquatic forms. Powerful magic surrounds the small island, and nobody can set foot on or leave without permission, or until rehabilitated.
I'm resigned to my fate, but why hasn't anybody given me a timescale for rehabilitation, or how I’m judged as safe to release. Is anybody? The stone walls hold the irredeemable inside. These 'students' were unable to control the destructive or violent behaviour that places them here, or didn't care if they did.
I swallow down my nerves as I stare at the open doors to the building. I can't discount the rumours. Will I leave here or die at Ravenhold?
Two other mids stand either side of the doorway at the top of the stone stairs and watch with a bored air as the basilisk mid leads me inside.
The chequered black and white tiled floor is fractured, and the painted walls are cracked in places revealing grey stone beneath, as if the island is trying to consume the building that's a scar on its back.
A chandelier hangs above me at an unusual angle, half-connected to the ceiling, and the teardrop glass is jagged but missing in places. I sidestep in case the thing lands on my head.
A squat man sits at a table tucked beneath the large staircase. More security? To my right, stairs lead upwards, and an ornate stair rail also covered in chipped white paint leads to a small balcony where people could slip through the gaps in the balustrade.
Ahead there are two closed doors, opposite the entrance.
The dread that's followed me from London to Edinburgh, and then in a blacked-out van further north and onto the boat, threatens to freeze me in place, but I push on. How many people here have killed, and do deaths occur inside the walls? The constant questions about death churn over and over with every step I take—ironic, as death is what brought me here.
Once I'm shown my room, I can drop my facade and allow out the terrified girl I am. I need to belong where I never will.
A tall man dressed in black jeans and a loose blue shirt leans against the wall and watches me walk in. A chain hangs from his belt and into a bulging pocket. Keys? His brown hair is close-cropped, and he's young-looking, but his features scream 'vamp'.
He sizes me up, head cocked, and the scrutiny sends a shiver through. He isn't checking me out—he's sizing me up for danger.
Pulling himself from the wall, the man takes a step towards me. "I'm, Luca and—"
A yell interrupts him, and I spin around. A guy launches himself from the rails at the top of the stairs and lands on his feet with feline effortlessness, one palm on the floor in front of him as he looks up.
A second man charges down the stairs two at a time. "Get back here," he snarls.
The guy who jumped pulls himself upright and to full height. He's dressed in scruffy blue jeans that hug his long legs and sit low on his hips. His black shirt is torn and hangs open. I take an appreciative look at the sculpted muscle on display, from his toned pecs down to the hard abs. This guy may be lean, but his body powerful.
He catches sight of me, and I stare back into eyes the colour of the sea. This guy’s beauty was created to break hearts—or rip