The Witch's Heart - Heather Hildenbrand Page 0,56

and turning in circles. I have no idea what he’s seeing, but it must be an illusion that is meant to distract.

“Leave him alone,” I warn her.

She offers another quick flick of her wrist and suddenly I’m standing outside on the cliff, sea air whipping around me.

Somewhere outside this vision, Declan and Dean need me. I can’t stay. But for a fleeting moment, I drink it in, uncaring that it’s not real. The taste of it on my tongue, the sharp prickle of it against my skin—it’s real enough. And more invigorating than I could have imagined after so long without it.

Hurrying, I make my way to the graves, waiting to see if the spirits will find me here. Other than silently sobbing at my bedside, they’ve kept their distance since the night of the party. As if they too have been subdued by Cutter’s renewed cruelties.

“Hello?” I call. “I need your help now.”

Nothing.

“Please. How do I help my friends?”

No new warnings.

No instructions.

I reach the first marker and run my hands over its rough surface. Even in this illusion meant to torture, I am awed by the realness of it. The solid feel of something conjured.

Slowly, a figure emerges from the grave.

The woman in the sundress appears, floating above me. She looks down at me, her face pinched in worry. “He’s getting closer,” she says. “You must fight harder.”

“Who?” I ask even though I already know.

“The man who killed me. Cutter.”

“What does he want with us?” I ask her.

“Your power, of course.”

She says it like it’s so obvious. And it’s the same line Maria gave me, but it tells me nothing. It’s not enough.

“What will he do with it?”

“Use it for himself.”

Frustration wells within me at her ambiguous words. “What does that mean?” I press.

But a moment later, the gray sky begins to melt, the colors running together as if on a canvas. The woman is swept away too, gone before she answers me. The headstone turns to dust underneath my fingers, and I back away, nearly tripping when the illusion vanishes and I’m back inside the room where I started.

The surroundings are different than before.

Where there were only smooth, blank walls, there are now shackles. And chained to one set is Dean, his head hanging limp, eyes closed. Blood runs from his nose.

“Dean!” I rush to him and drop to his side, fumbling with the restraints. But there is no lock mechanism that I can see. No release.

And he doesn’t stir.

Chained directly across from him is Declan. I recognize his wolf’s thick, brown coat and his deep green eyes as his beast stares back at me.

“Declan, what’s happening?” I ask.

But he doesn’t answer. And he doesn’t shift back to his human form.

I don’t even know if he’s trying to.

They must have given him something to force his wolf out.

Letting go of Dean, I push to my feet and hurry towards Declan. He crouches as I approach. When I reach out to him, he growls and snaps his teeth at my outstretched fingers.

“Dec,” I say, breathless as I yank my hand away. “It’s me. Celeste.”

He growls again.

“I won’t hurt you,” I say, but his eyes have glazed over and he wears a look of barbaric ferocity.

He pulls at the chain holding him to the wall, the metal jangling with his movements. His snarl drives me back a few paces. There’s nothing of the Declan I know left in the gaze reflecting back at me.

“Declan, please,” I say.

But he only growls louder. Strains harder.

The metal clangs and drywall pulls loose as the chain link mounted to the wall begins to crumble.

Declan only fights harder to free himself.

Saliva drips from his open jaw and his eyes are feral.

“Declan!” My pleas go unanswered.

There’s no recognition in him at all. Whatever they’ve given him, it’s erased everything that makes him him from this beastly body. If anything, he reminds me of that other wolf. The one who tried to attack me in the dungeons when I first arrived. No trace of humanity left. Only violence.

Fear grips my heart, squeezing until it’s hard to breathe. Is Declan really gone? And if he gets free, what does that mean for me?

Behind me, Dean groans as he comes to.

“Celeste?”

“Dean.” I don’t dare look at him or take my eyes off Declan for a single second.

When the chain breaks, the snap echoes in the small space. My breath hitches and I watch as Declan is jerked sideways with the sudden freedom. Then he straightens and his glare switches