they want, let them feel pity. As long as it keeps me safe. Never mind the fact that my chest tightens each time I think of not having a home to go to when we return, or that when I remember my fated mate, Martell, I forget how to breathe. The longing sits inside me constantly, but the hardest part is the loneliness my wolf drowns in. It seeps into my body like venom, the emotions breaking me slowly.
When I look over at Crius, he’s still staring my way. “What?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Nothing.” Then he refocuses on our walk, which is all that I ask for… to be left alone and to get this trip over with. Secretly, I also thank him for keeping his word and not telling Ragnar about my attempted escape last night. I can only guess if Ragnar knew, he’d insist on his new deal from last night. I shudder at the thought of being owned by anyone.
I don’t need to get to know my companions that well. Right now, I’ve learned everything I need. One needs attention, another broods over a dark secret, then there’s the peacekeeper with has own mysteries, and finally the one who loves to be worshipped.
In the distance, two figures burst out from the dark woods, racing wildly, bounding away so fast I expect something to emerge out of the line of trees behind them. But nothing gives chase.
My pulse thumps in my veins, dread rising to the surface like an oncoming tide as they get closer.
We all pause, Crius stepping forward, while Stone falls back alongside me, his arm jutting out across my stomach. It’s a strange sensation to keep having these Alphas look out for me. I’ve been the protector of my sisters for so long, I’d forgotten how it feels to be protected.
I stare ahead, now clearly seeing two gray wolves darting across the field. They bound forward with terrifying speed, their mouths open, tongues out, and the fur running down their spines standing on end.
They’re petrified of something in those woods.
A shiver grips me, but I can’t let fear get to me.
We watch the wolves dart right past us without a glance our way, then they’re gone.
No one says a word, but the men are exchanging worried looks because I’m certain we are all thinking the same thing. We’re about to walk into the devil’s den.
“Narah, you’re up front with me,” Ragnar demands, waving for me to join him. I do, showing no hesitation. “You detect anything, you let us know instantly, understand?” He watches me like a predator, and he’s got his guard up. His unsaid words are the focus here. Or else…
“Of course.”
We’re on the move again, and footsteps from the other three close in behind us. I remind myself that my detection of magic will keep me safe, but I can’t seem to shake off the worry that I’ve bitten off more than I can chew.
“Once we’re inside, you know how to track down the witches, right?” I ask.
“It’s been said there’s a small track that intertwines through the woods. Follow that and it will take us to them,” Ragnar confirms.
All I can think is how most of the hexes and death traps will be placed along that path, and it won’t be the direction we take if we want to avoid death.
Dark clouds gather with the promise of rain. My breaths speed as I scan the woods up ahead for any movement. Upon reaching the forest, the men stop and look at me.
“Alright, that’s my cue.” Squaring my shoulders, I turn and set my sights on the dense woodland, the shadows. I take one step, then another, and enter the Poisonous Woods. A chill closes in around me the moment I step over the threshold, wrapping around me, digging its claws into my flesh. My wolf stirs, suddenly alert, and she’s pushing against me, hating this place.
“It’s just for a little while,” I whisper.
I look around to the trees that give way to a strange darkness, like somehow the sunlight struggles to breach the canopy.
Breathing deeply, I take another step, then a couple more, my attention falling to the worn path Ragnar mentioned snaking through the landscape and vanishing into the shadows. Behind me, the morning light beams brightly, and four Alphas are waiting for me to call them inside. Facing the forest once more, I exhale slowly, and with it the first sparks of magic tingle through me as though I’m