do realize that renders the truce void,” Lyra states, the corners of her mouth curling upward. She’s a beautiful woman, but there’s darkness behind her deep green eyes.
Her shoulders straighten, and she raises a hand encased in an orb of dark light. With it comes a spark of magic in the air that rubs against my arms, and my skin itches under the shackle around my neck.
“To show you I have no ill intent toward you,” she begins, taking a step forward, “you and your wolves can leave unscathed. That does not mean if we ever cross paths again you will be safe from my wrath. You do anything otherwise, and I will skin each of you alive this very second,” she threatens, her voice hoarse and loud. “Narah remains with us.”
Ragnar barks out a burst of laughter, a mocking sound. “You take me for a fool. I am not here to negotiate, Witch. I am telling you the manner in which the Savage Sector will now be reigned. I am offering you freedom from the hatred and persecution from the wolves beyond this forest. You will no longer need to hide in here like mice. And in exchange, you will not stand in my way. Plus, as I said, Narah is mine and will not be leaving my side,” he growls, his arm around me tightening.
“What do you want with me?” I ask Lyra, curious and needing to understand what they see in me.
The woman turns her attention on me, as does everyone watching us in silence. It is unnerving to have so many eyes scrutinizing me, but I swallow past the thickness in my throat and hold my head high.
“You will stay with us as your sister Kaira has done.”
My insides freeze over. This is a surprise I hadn’t expected. “Wait! M-my sister?” My voice stutters, and I stumble forward, but Ragnar holds onto me by my waist, keeping me locked to his side. “She’s here and alive?”
I knew the dead body Ragnar had found wasn’t Kaira.
“If that is the case,” Ragnar interjects, his grip around me stronger, like he’ll fight to the death before releasing me, “bring Kaira forward.”
I can’t help but fall madly for Ragnar in that moment for being the logical one.
Stone and Nikos move out on either side of us now, creating a wall of us against them, and I’m with them, not on my own for a change.
Yet my breaths choke in my throat, and every emotion I’ve been holding in pours out, and I’m crying… happy tears that she’s alive. Of course I told myself that, but the lingering doubt never left me.
“Where is she?” I gasp, scanning the crowd, half expecting her to run out toward me, to call out my name, to see her crying. My arms shake by my sides. Maybe this is why they allowed us to arrive here. Because of my sister.
“You must make a choice,” Lyra states. “Your sister or the wolves.”
“Where is Kaira?” I demand, my gaze searching the crowd.
But it’s Crius shifting behind us who distracts me, his pacing growing intense, and it’s starting to get on my nerves.
“Let me do it,” he growls in Ragnar’s ear. “They’re fucking lying, the lot of them. This is the time.” His eyes are fully dilated, his body is jittery while he breathes raggedly.
“Are you okay?” I whisper to him over my shoulder.
He nods and quickly jerks his attention back to the witches, his upper lip curling upward in a silent snarl. I reach over to touch his arm in an attempt to calm him when a spark of electricity zips up my arm from his skin. I gasp and snap my hand back.
And realization hits me. He’s the second. Crius also carries magic. How could I have not picked up on it? Why have they kept so many secrets from me?
Ragnar shakes his head. “Hold still, Crius.”
What is Crius going to do?
Lyra stands tall, her narrowing gaze on us darkening. She raises her hand, one encased in a black smoke just like the kind on the bears that attacked the men. She’s not stupid and must sense something is very wrong with Crius.
A shiver wracks over my body that I know so little about them, that they kept me in the dark. Whatever Crius has planned will bring the witches’ wrath down on us all, and there will be no way for me to protect them.
But Crius never stops pacing, and he’s scratching frantically.
“Ragnar,” I whisper