Page 55 of Captive Witch

Her cyan eyes dart to mine, piercing straight through me. “Tenacity is survival, the gods told you. Now would be the time to exercise such patience. Or did theforebears—her aunt, from what I hear—not postpone her death?”

Snapping my jaw shut, my teeth ache, and I struggle to hold back the growl threatening to tear from me.

“The other treasure,” she continues, “I believe is your sister.”

“Jules?” Adara asks, her furrowed brows raised.

Ruya sips on her tea, then takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. “Adara,” she reaches across the table, her palm out, “let me show you.”

Adara sets her shaking hand in Ruya’s, her other hand reaching for my thigh under the table. A violent wave of nausea rips through me at her touch, images forcing their way into my mind.

Snow-capped mountains sit in the distance, a black shadow darting through the forest as its base.

Mist covered trees opening to a castle, black spires reaching toward a storm-laden sky.

Blood drips from the point of a knife, splattering onto ivory tiles below. A pale figure grips its handle, their knuckles white below the hem of a black cloak. The face is shrouded in shadows, but a few stray blonde curls escape the hood.

The hooded figure’s head snaps up, staring right at me, and the knife falls from her hand, clattering to the floor and landing beside a crumpled body. Black hair fans out in a halo, a pool of blood seeping through it, the crimson liquid coating the strands and making them shine eerily in the candlelight.

“Wren!” a girl screams, her voice breaking.

The cloaked woman steps aside, revealing a young girl, her arms chained to the wall above her head—Juliana. She thrashes against her restraints, screaming Wren’s name over and over. Her blonde hair is matted on one side, mud caked onto her cheek with a long slash across the other. Sobs shake Juliana’s shoulders, her voice hoarse as she continues to wail, desperate to break free.

Adara’s hand is ripped from my thigh, and I gasp for breath, shoving up from my chair and reaching the sink just in time as my coffee comes up, bile burning my throat and splattering the stainless steel. Flipping on the water, I rinse my mouth, then spray the sink briefly before turning back to the table.

Ruya stares in my direction. “You saw?”

I nod, wiping a hand across my mouth. “I did, though I wish I hadn’t.”

Shock widens her eyes, and she turns back toward Adara.

“I touched him,” Adara explains, her voice raspy as she stares down at her hands splayed on the table. “But… Wren… a-and Jules… I… Was that Monique in the cloak?”

“I believe it was.” Ruya grimaces. “I didn’t recognize anything else, though that isn’t much of a surprise.”

“It was the White Mountains,” I say, leaning back against the counter, not trusting my legs to carry me back to the table. I ruba hand over my forehead. “I’m not sure of that castle—what or where it is—but I know who could find it.”

Frank clears his throat. “Um, castle?”

I blow out a breath, forcing my legs to work well enough to get to Adara. Sliding onto the seat beside her, I pull her into my arms, rubbing a hand over her back. “Yeah, Frank, a gods damncastle. Call Brent’s team here. And Chloe too. We’ll need her tracking spell. We have a witch to hunt.”