they never caught her.
It was pointless.
If they didn’t catch her, they would target those who were dear to her to draw her out of hiding.
Mari and Daimon would be at the top of that list.
“I know,” she repeated hollowly, sickness brewing inside her as she thought about what she was going to do.
Warmth washed over her as two of the witches opened the doors to the coven and she stepped inside with Belle still gripping her wrist. Wise witch. If Belle didn’t keep hold of her, she was liable to run, wasn’t sure she could stop herself even when she knew it would be a terrible mistake.
Cass forced herself to look at the blonde, at the other witches who escorted her into the enormous foyer of the coven as the doors closed behind them, and at the groups of young witches who were silently moving across it, dressed in the same drab grey colour as the building.
She had been one of those children once, a little over two centuries ago, obeying the rigid rules of the coven and remaining silent, afraid of smiling in case she was reprimanded.
Terrified of laughing.
But there had been better times too, when she had been in the dorms with the other witches of her age, away from the scrutinising and firm gazes of the teachers. There had been laughter then, potions gone hilariously wrong, incantations that had gone awry with amusing consequences, and a hell of a lot of bonding over a mutual dislike of the teachers and the adults.
She had made friends here, ones she remained in contact with despite the fact many of them were now spread across the globe.
So as much as she hated it at times, this was her family.
She told herself that on repeat, hammering it home.
She had sworn to do this duty when she had been on the verge of embarking on her life in the wider world, reciting a promise in a ritual that took place for every witch who chose to leave the coven, and she would, for the sake of her family.
“We shall give you a moment to prepare in your old quarters.” Belle finally released her.
Cold swept through Cass. She swallowed hard.
They expected her to go to the man right now?
She had thought she would have some time to settle in at least, to gather her courage. She pressed a hand to her stomach, unable to stop herself from reacting, and Belle’s dark eyes narrowed.
“This isn’t going to be a problem, is it?” Belle looked ready to seize hold of her hand again and drag her to the man if Cass said that it was.
She forced herself to shake her head.
Breathed through the panic that gripped her and tried to calm her mind. She had been prepared to do this for centuries, had known this time would come. She could do it.
She blew out her breath.
It fogged in the air.
She frowned and looked at the other witches, at the way their breath did the same, and then down at her arms as her skin turned to gooseflesh.
The doors behind her burst open and frigid wind blasted into the room, had her teeth chattering as she whirled to face that direction at the same time as Belle. She struggled to maintain her balance as ice rapidly spread across the floor and climbed the walls, chilling the soles of her feet and tearing shocked gasps from several witches.
Snow swirled into the building, as thick as a blizzard, obscuring her view of the outside world.
She peered into the storm as it battered her, tiny flakes stinging her eyes.
A shape formed.
Tall.
Lean.
Formidable.
The snow fell to form a thick layer on the floor, swirled around her ankles and piled up in the corners of the room and against the furniture.
The temperature dropped so rapidly that many of the younger witches collapsed and older ones rushed to help them, gathering them into their arms and transporting them away.
Out of the reaches of the god who strode towards her through the storm, his handsome face set in dark lines, his eyes as white as snow ringed with darkness and spikes of clear ice rising like a crown from his silver-white hair. Icy talons glittered over his fingers as he flexed them and fangs flashed between his lips as he sneered at Belle.
A god on a warpath.
A god who had never looked so damned hot.
Around Cass, the other four witches began muttering incantations and colourful light flared from their palms as the spells built.
Relief