Chapter 2

The Wolf

My arse. Shitting hell, my fucking arse.

Next time, one of them can ride a damned horse for six hours each way to interrogate an old hag that smells of piss and mould.

And I will stay here in the nice castle to play house with Pix.

What a waste of time.

If I'd shifted and travelled as a wolf, I would have been back hours ago. But no. We're not feeding from Pix to respect her "boundaries". Or whatever. So, I'm stuck in this useless human form so I can save up the small amount of blood I do have in my system, just in case of an emergency.

I pick at my teeth. That witch's skin was so old and leathery, she's really sticking in there. Powerful blood, though. She was a strong healer. Even as I fed from her, she kept healing herself, so I had to keep tearing at that wrinkled old throat of hers.

Took hours.

I couldn't let her live. Not with Neve back and knowing what I was asking.

As soon as I walk into the entrance hall, I hear Pix. The moon is high, and the night always brings this same vile sound. Part of me wants to turn around and leave, but another part of me, a much bigger part, wants to go to her and make sure she's okay.

‘Evening, Archie,' Leo says, peering up from his work.

The air witch sits at the base of the stairs, whittling yet another flute from a piece of wood. Judging from the large pile of shavings around his feet and the two flutes he's already made, he's been there a while.

‘Good trip?'

‘My idea of heaven,' I groan back, massaging my arse. ‘Do you have nothing better to do than make a mess on the stairs?'

‘Not at the moment. Your girl's screaming is making it hard to sleep. Also, some earth witches approached the border a couple of hours ago, so I had to check the spell's strength was still good after it killed them. I'm all pumped up with power and full of energy.'

‘Then grab one of the selkies and expend some of it,' I reply. ‘You like getting hot and heavy with those things.' I look up the stairs. ‘Gotta be better than sitting here and listening to her.'

His hands fall still as he looks up at me with a sympathetic look.

‘What?'

‘They left, Archie.'

‘Shit. The Selkies left now, too? All of them?'

He nods. ‘Left this morning. Took a couple of the horned guys with them and went north to the lakes. Halio and… what's his name? Errrm. Frank.' He continues to whittle. ‘Stupid name for a horned beast with three balls and a forked nob.'

Shit. That's more than half of those living in the castle gone.

Since Kieran "disappeared" and several others going "bye-bye" because they overheard things they shouldn't have overheard, more and more of them quit trusting us. They've been leaving one after the other in the middle of the night. And we've been too distracted to really notice.

I don't blame them. We promised to give them sanctuary. Instead, we've killed a fair chunk of them.

They saw things they shouldn't have seen or heard something they shouldn't have heard.

‘Other than her screaming, the Selkies legging it, and the dead earth witches by the border, has it been quiet whilst I've been gone?'

‘Yep. Well… I fed the girl downstairs, and she threw a bucket of piss at me.'

‘Better than last week when she threw a turd at ya,' I remind him.

He chuckles.

‘I was impressed with her arm,' he says. ‘Not many girls can throw a shit with such precision.'

I sit beside him and let out a breath.

‘You ever gonna tell me why you have an earth witch with her tongue cut out locked in the basement?' he asks, ignoring the wailing from above us.

‘No. And I wouldn't advise asking.'

‘Can I ask how long she's gonna be staying? Just so I know.'

‘That's up to the screaming woman upstairs.'

Thalia is still down there. Long gone is Cole's meek and obedient little mistress. She's a feral little mud bitch now. Well. She has been down there a while and grows more desperate and angry with every day that passes. Plus, Leo enjoys pushing her buttons. We're not going to kill her without Pix's say so. Best not to add to the list of reasons to hate us.

He's helped bury the bodies of others who poked their nose where it didn't belong, so he knows not to push. His morals are in the gutter. But he's loyal and doesn't ask too many questions. He knows better than that. So, I asked him to ensure our guest is fed and watered.

He was caught fucking his coven leader's daughter three years back, just before her rite night. A big no-no in the covens. Girls need to be virgins to give their rite night the most powerful boost possible. And she was promised to her second cousin.

Leo's smart in all ways except where he chooses to put his dick. And he's the most powerful air witch I have ever come across. I like him despite the fact he's what he is.

He was sixteen when he ran into me on the road. I was travelling back from some shit-hole human village, and he leapt out from the trees, slamming straight into my horse, almost knocking himself out. I laughed as I looked down at him, his trousers around his knees and dick swinging in the breeze. When the three soldiers chasing him arrived and trapped him in an orb of wind, I demanded to know what he had done.

They told me. I laughed.

Turns out that after he'd been caught balls deep in the virgin daughter of their fearless fuckwit of a leader, he ran.

Straight into me.

I saw something of myself in the fool.

And when we were attacked by five Arani - Big fucking spiders, and I mean big! He saved my arse.

Those spiders tore the air witches to pieces and ate them as they screamed.

I froze.

Give me a witch or an axe-wielding lunatic any day.

I don't fuck with anything with more than four legs. Especially hairy, spindly legs that scuttle. And seeing those hairy monstrosities scrabbling in the tree tops with those beady little eyes, I fucking froze hard.

Turns out spiders and snakes are my weak spot

Disgusting things. I shudder even now.

He broke free from the air orb, and rather than leave me to die, he used his magic to save me. He killed them all, pulled up his trousers, tucked his cock away, and dusted himself off.

I offered him a home.

The lunatic happily accepted.

He's been here ever since, fucking and drinking away his days in exchange for doing the jobs we need him to do. Spying. Assassin. Delivering the odd threat.

Besides Pix, he's the only witch we've allowed to live here as a guest. Turns out he hates witches just as much as the rest of us.

At the moment, he's been keeping Thalia alive and protecting the borders.

And apparently, learning to play the flute.

He's actually pretty good.

Pix lets loose another shriek. I look up at the hallway and swallow the lump that just formed in my throat.

‘She been like that long?'

‘An hour or so. They're both up there with her. A fat lot of good it seems to do. I think they just make her worse if you ask me.'

His blade continues working the wood as he looks up at me.

‘I know she's the one they keep coming after. The earth witches. Those pixie spies. And I know that she's the reason the others have left.'

‘I would keep what you think you know to yourself, Leo,' I warn.

‘You know me. Put up and shut up. Give me a task, and I'll get it done. You can trust me.'

‘I feel a "but" coming up.'

He collects his flutes and faces me.

‘No "but". That's it. Whatever it is, I've got your back. She needs protecting? I'll help in any way I can. However.'

‘However is just a fancy way of saying but.'

‘We can't stay sealed up in my protection spell forever. There comes a point when safety turns into a prison. And if Ashe's old coven wants her back badly enough, they will never stop trying to get her. Believe me. I know. They're a vindictive and superior bunch of pricks, our covens. If you're not like them, you're the enemy. And they don't just kill those who turn against their ways. They make an example of us. They were going to slice off my dick and balls before impaling me, arse end, on a spike. Then, they would have left me there until I died. All because I dipped my wick in a willing lass.'

I know that. The earth coven were slicing Pix to ribbons and about to fuck her with a knife before I got to her.

‘The only reason my coven hasn't come looking for me is because they think I was eaten by spiders,' he scoffs. ‘I'll help you protect the castle and anyone you tell me to. And trust me when I say I will stay by your side no matter what. You gave me a home and accepted me for who I am when no one else in the world has or ever would. So let me know if you need anything, Archie.'

‘Thanks, Leo. You're the best air witch I know.'

‘I'm the only one worth knowing, mate.'

He gives a final look up the stairs as Pix roars again and gets to his feet.

‘Good luck. And remember to duck.' He taps to the fading black eye she gave him a week ago. ‘I don't know what you're feeding her, but she's got one hell of a right hook.'

He leaves, playing a melodic tune on his new flute.

I follow the screams up to her room and stop in the open doorway.

I hate it. I fucking hate it.

Ashe screams again, and I run ice cold as her distress and terror carry through the air and smash into my heart. I never thought I would care. That the sounds of a blood witch crying out in terror would bring me anything other than joy.

But I could scream now, watching her thrash in the sheets tangled around her body. Her arms lash out. Her legs kick, and her back arches as she releases her blood-curdling cries and claws at her throat, desperate to rid herself of the rope she's dreaming of. She carves away her skin and blood beads as her fingernails pass.

It once brought me endless enjoyment to watch the blood bitches scream and cry as we built our arches from their bones.

To watch them die, one by one, was my light at the end of the tunnel dug straight from hell. A tunnel they put me in.

And none of their deaths brought me so much pleasure as Sinthia's.

The blood queen's sister. Pix's aunt. And my ex-lover.

Until recently, the best day of my life was when she hung from the rope I tied around her neck. When I watched her choke and gurgle. When her eyes bulged and slowly turned red as they protruded from her pretty little face. Her death was long, and she suffered. She actually begged me to end it. I've used that image to pleasure myself on more than one occasion.

But now, as I think of Sinthia hanging, I shudder. Every night, Sinthia haunts my dreams. That sweet, sickly giggle. Her infantile complaining and pouting.

Her soft strokes on my body were always so gentle and light. I can't stand to be touched like that, even now. Same as I can't stand the smell of liquorice.

She was always eating fucking liquorice.

I loathe how Sinthia fills me up and lurks in every shadow. And I've killed the whore twice now.

Pix screams again, so loud I know it must hurt.

Shaw struggles to get a grip on her wrists as Dorian takes her head and attempts to get her to hear him through the nightmare gripping her. Her arms are covered in bruises from where she's smacked them on the bedframe, and Shaw tries to avoid holding her too tight so as not to add more marks.

But she's a strong little thing now, whatever she is, and is just as likely to hurt us as we are to damage her.

I run my fingers through my hair, trapped between the urge to leave and the urge to slap her the fuck awake.

I'll take the hatred I see on her face when she looks at us compared to the utter horror etched on her sleeping features right now.

That's all we seem to get.

Hatred when she's awake. Terror when she sleeps.

I miss the feisty little earth witch who once stood proudly over her ex and spat our collective cum over his sadistic little face. I miss the girl who stood over her dying coven leader and pissed all over him. I miss the girl who called Shaw a pig-headed piece of shit the first day she met him. I miss the girl who blushed when she gave me her virginity.

Now, all we get is silence and stares.

Looks that could kill.

And screams.

‘Can you just use your dream dust on her and make this stop?!' I call over her cries. ‘Every fucking night, we get this. It's driving me mad.'

‘She made me swear that I wouldn't,' Shaw argues back. ‘It's the only thing she's asked of me. No dream walking.'

‘Fuck that. Just do it, Shaw!' I shrug angrily, failing to see why he would give a damn when she's out of it on booze anyway. I can smell the fae wine from here. ‘It's not like we've got a track record of doing what she wants us to do, and she's so drunk she'll never know. Go in there, put her in your meadow and leave.'

‘I won't give her another reason to hate me, Arch.'

‘Great. Let's just watch her scream in terror and claw at her throat. That sounds like a great alternative.'

He glares at me, breathing in slow and deep as he fights the rage he has built inside.

Shaw loses his grip on her arm. We all wince when it slams into the bedpost, and the sound of her bone snapping echoes through the room. She sobs and rolls in pain, still utterly out of it.

I would be, too, if I had drank that much fae wine.

Shaw steps back, shaking his head. He can't take it. I know he can't because neither can I. It's a strange sense of frustration and guilt we all share. After all, we did this to her. Inflicted her with the memories of the murders we carried out on her mother and aunts.

Every night, she hangs. She's crushed. She's cut.

Over and over.

The spell we made her do forced her to endure the deaths of Neve and her two sisters. And it haunts her every day. I step forward, kicking a bottle of wine as I pass it, and charge towards the bed.

‘WAKE UP!'

I slap her. My palm stings as I strike because I don't hold back. Her lip splits, yet she still screams. I'm slammed by a dark shadow and get tossed away from her, hitting the doorframe with a painful thud.

‘Lay hands on her again, Archie,' Dorian growls, ‘I'll rip your fucking hands off and shove them down your throat.' Dorian clambers on the bed and sits behind her, twisting his legs around hers and pinning her flailing arms to his body. ‘We have these claim marks for a damn reason,' he says, preparing to use his.

‘I wouldn't,' Shaw warns.

‘WAKE UP!' he and his shadows yell in her ear, shaking the room and darkening everything around us.

Her eyes fling open.

She sees Shaw first, then me, and then Dorian holding her. And she no doubt feels the burning of her claim mark.

This should be good.

Without missing a beat, Pix reaches behind her with her uninjured arm and throws Dorian clear across the room.

Just like that! Like the Shadow Master is a fucking ragdoll.

The jackass lands in a heap beside me, his shadows sinking back into his body, and I can't help but snort.

‘That went well,' I tell him.

‘Shut up,' he grumbles.

There's not a lot that can put him down, and I never expected the silver-haired earth witch would be on the list of likely creatures to knock him on his arse.

But she is always full of surprises.

Dorian and I return to our feet, and we all face her.

The room is suddenly silent, and we all share a breath of relief she's finally awake. That finally, the screaming has stopped.

Her eyes are barely slits as they take in the sight of us.

And there's that hatred I've come to dread.

Her chest rises and falls. Sweat coats her pale skin.

I bet that if she were up for it, the hate fuck we could get from her would be intense. Better than what we got in the forest the last time she let us touch her. But we all know better than to try anything right now.

Pix slides her knees beneath her. Her blinks are slow and heavy from the many bottles of fae wine she's drunk, and she sways a little.

But she's got us all in her sights.

‘You were having a nightmare,' Shaw says. ‘We were trying to help.'

‘You're my fucking nightmare,' she slurs back.

‘She speaks.'

She's probably too drunk to remember her vow of silence, but it's good to hear her talk nonetheless.

She looks down at her arm. At the bruises and swelling.

‘It's broken.' Shaw's brow hitches condescendingly. As if saying this wouldn't have happened if she had just let him use his dream dust. He holds out his wrist. ‘Drink from me. Fix it.'

She stands slowly, the silk sheet slipping from her, revealing her naked body beneath. There's no shyness anymore. No modesty. She doesn't give a fuck about any of that, and I don't mind one bit. She stands tall, knowing she's nothing short of a goddess in our eyes. I think she wants us to overstep. To try and take her so that she could have another reason to hate us.

‘You broke my arm?' she asks. ‘What were you trying to do to me as I slept?'

‘You broke your arm,' Shaw replies. ‘You had a nightmare and lashed out. If you just let us help you through this, it would be much easier for you.'

‘You want to help me?' she repeats, her words soft and sweet. Now we're in trouble. She takes a step closer, her back straightening as she emphasises her bare breasts. ‘Why? Because you love me?'

Shaw doesn't reply. He hasn't repeated his sentiments since the night of that disastrous attempt at breaking our curse. He laid his black heart bare, and she basically spat on it. He won't repeat the same mistake.

I'm not too bothered. I'll tell her how I feel all day, every day. I'll show her how much I want her.

She can't be pissed forever, and when we break down her walls and get her back, it will be even sweeter when we make her pay for this torment she's putting us through.

Pix walks towards him, and the two are toe-to-toe. Her head tilts all the way back to keep him in her sights. The tips of her hair reach the top of her arse, and she's so fucking cute as she stands up to him.

She raises her broken arm between the two of them. He refuses to look at it.

I don't like this. That nasty little smile growing on her pretty lips means trouble.

It always means trouble.

‘You don't like seeing me hurt, Dream Walker?' she asks in that same fake sweetness, pouting out her lower lip.

There's Sinthia. That childish whine. That insincere vulnerability. It brings bile to my throat.

‘You know I don't,' Shaw replies.

‘Shaw…' I warn. ‘I think you should back off.'

‘Or what?' he jeers, stepping forward and towering over her as she keeps on smiling. ‘What are you going to do, Pixie?' He twirls his finger around the chain wrapped around her dainty little neck before giving it a slight tug to urge her nearer. Their noses touch. He frowns. She smiles. ‘You can't take on all three of us.'

‘I don't have to. I just have to hurt you the only way I know how.'

She lifts her already broken arm up and, with a grunt, slams it down on the chest of drawers beside her with all her strength. She screams. A scream that turns into a deranged kind of laughter as she staggers back, her bone now poking through her flesh, and blood spewing to the floor. Tears spill down her cheeks as she releases that enraged laughter, and it makes an icy chill run the length of my spine.

‘For fuck's sake!' Shaw yells, trying to grab her as she staggers back. ‘Are you insane?!'

The scent of her blood fills the air, making my mouth water. As he tries to get the crazy little bitch under control, I stare at the blood dripping from her arm and pooling on the floor.

We all do.

She's still laughing like a lunatic, fighting against the two others trying to pin her down so they can fix the mess she's made of herself.

I stand and make my way to the droplets of blood. A lick. One taste.

Pixie lands on the bed, Shaw and Dorian towering over her and yelling as they try to get her in hand.

I'm not sure we'll ever get her in hand again. I think maybe we broke her. The spell was too dark. The blood magic too powerful. We knew it was a risk, forcing her to do that spell.

We made so many mistakes for less than nothing in return. We lost more than we had to start with.

Because not a single one of us ever expected to like the little blood witch we stole. Never mind, fall in fucking love with her.

‘ARCHIE!' Shaw bellows, pulling my gaze away from her blood on the floor. ‘Fancy helping us out?!' he snaps, nodding to her. I see him glance at the same drops of blood. See that same hunger. He meets my gaze and shakes his head. ‘Not now. Help her.'

She's thrashing and screeching beneath them both.

‘I'll kill you! I'll tear out your eyes! You're dead!'

She screams and laughs furiously, thrashing like crazy and sending sprays of blood in all directions.

They pin her down to the mattress. It takes both of them to restrain her.

I stride towards her, bite my wrist and thrust it in her mouth. When she refuses to swallow, I cover her nose.

The mad little witch looks ready to pass out rather than accept it.

I tap into my claiming mark, connecting my will to her body.

‘Drink,' I order, feeling the pull between us as I take control. ‘Now.'

She does. And the hatred in her eyes as she looks at me intensifies. She didn't ask for much when we brought her back to the castle.

She wanted space. She wanted us to promise not to use our marks to compel her, and for Shaw to stay out of her head.

Only Shaw has kept his word about the dream walking, and part of me thinks that's more from the lack of access to her blood than anything else.

Everything else we've disregarded. We can't stay away from her. We can't, and we won't. And when she's got all the anger out of her system, we'll fix this.

She'll love us. We'll make damned sure of it because now we've had her, nothing else compares. Nothing else matters.

I'll take her hatred and wrath if the alternative is nothing at all. I'll spend an eternity breaking down the walls she's put between us and embed myself into her so deep she'll die without me. Without us all.

She swallows deeply and falls into that euphoric state she always does when she tastes us. Dorian snaps her bone back into place, and she screams around my wrist, pulling my blood harder into her mouth to ease the pain. Her skin slowly stitches back together. The bruises fade, and now she writhes in pleasure beneath us all. The scent of her arousal fills the air, and it takes all I fucking have not to widen her legs and see her for myself. To sink my fingers inside her. To slam myself into her and make her pay for being so stubborn and refusing even to have a civil conversation with us.

We share a look. A mutual understanding that now is most certainly not the time to have a play with our deranged little Pixie.

‘That's enough,' Shaw says, easing his grip on her and taping my arm. ‘She's fixed up.'

I keep my wrist to her mouth, loving the feel of her tongue gliding over the wound. Relishing in her little moans. In the feel of her breath so close to my skin and how her fingers squeeze so hard I'll have bruises.

‘Archie.'

‘One more minute,' I mutter, sweeping the hair from her face. ‘Just…'

She won't look at me. I hate that she won't look at me.

She whimpers as Shaw pulls my wrist away.

‘No more, Arch,' he warns. ‘We want her sober, and I will not have her rewarded for this behaviour.'

Pixie rolls on her side, pulls her knees up to her chest, and closes her eyes.

And then she sleeps again.

We stand and look down at her. All three of us are panting and bristling with frustration at the wild little thing curled up and naked between us.

‘Who gave her the fae wine?' Shaw asks, rolling his neck and letting out a breath before resting his accusatory stare on me.

‘Not me,' I insist. ‘I've literally just got back.'

He turns that glare to Dorian, who shakes his head and rests his focus on her again.

‘She must have snuck out of her room again.'

‘We can tether her to the bed,' I suggest. I lean down and dip my fingers in the puddle of blood. Dorian slaps my hand away. ‘She's out cold,' I argue. ‘She won't know.'

He stands between her and me like some righteous protector.

‘We don't take when she's unconscious.'

‘I wasn't gonna bite her, Dorian. Shit.' I suck the blood from my fingers before he can stop me.

He picks up the sheet and covers her. As he sits beside her, he takes the long silver chain around her neck and wraps it around his wrist.

‘I'll watch over her until she wakes,' he says. ‘Get rid of the wine. She's not having another drop.'

‘Agreed,' Shaw replies.

He loathes not having control, and Pix is most certainly not under control.

‘You find out anything worthwhile?' he asks me. ‘I could do with some good news for a change.'

‘The old witch you sent me to was batshit crazy, Shaw. And a right old mess. Neve carved her up good and proper,' I reply. ‘She remembered Neve leaving the coven for more than a week without her sisters just before she sought confirmation of the pregnancy from the healer. Which was strange seeing as Neve never went anywhere without Sinthia or Dhalia by her side. The healer recalled telling Neve she was with child. She said the pregnancy was particularly rough on her. Lots of pain. Sapped a lot of her powers. And that apparently Neve kept painting this, or something similar, on her belly.' I pull out a scrap of parchment and hand him the marking the old healer drew for me. ‘She also said that Neve wasn't surprised by the news of being with child one bit. That she was almost relieved and excited. Odd, considering Neve then slit Ashe's throat and buried her alive shortly after she was born,' I add. ‘That's about it. No mention of a father. And trust me. I asked my questions hard.'

Shaw looks at the strange symbol.

‘You have any idea what the symbol means?'

I shrug. I've never seen it before.

Shaw stops suddenly, his gaze on me.

‘What?' I ask. ‘Do I have old hag in my teeth?'

His eyes narrow. In a move so quick I barely saw it, he tosses a dagger right at me.

‘Fuck!' I yell, ducking for cover. ‘WHAT THE HELL DID I DO?!'

There's a high-pitched squeal and a wet, squelching thud from the open window behind me. Looking back, I see a little red lump stuck between the dagger and the window frame. I lift the dagger and look at the red pixie impaled on its blade. Its body twitches as it cries out in pain, looking at the weapon sticking through its stomach.

‘Another one,' I sigh, watching the little creature fall limp. ‘How many is that now?'

‘Six that we've seen,' Shaw replies, walking over and taking his dagger back. He pulls off the pixie spy and looks at it with disgust. ‘Neve would have sent more that we haven't seen. That's a certainty.' He drops the fire pixie to the floor and slams his boot down.

At least this one won't be able to report back to Neve. All a fire pixie needs to send a message is a flame, and it could send any information it wants straight to her.

‘What is Neve waiting for?' I ask. ‘She knows where we are. She knows we have Ashe and the blood grimoire, yet she's made no attempts to reclaim either. She just sends in her little spies to watch us.'

‘I don't know. And that makes me more nervous than anything else.' Shaw looks at our still-sleeping girl. ‘Perhaps the fight between mother and daughter took it out of Neve and she's healing. Perhaps she's gathering her unseelie forces.'

The idea of her taking time to heal and reclaim her former strength has my insides well and truly knotted. Neve's kindred meant that she could take the power of the witches whose blood she used. She could use fire, air, earth and water if she had enough blood on hand. I shudder. Giving her time to strengthen is the last thing we should do.

‘I still maintain that we should get gone, Shaw. Let's take Pix and-'

‘What? Hide in some shack somewhere? Wait for Neve to rebuild her forces and destroy everything we built until she comes for us and her?' He nods at Pix. ‘The human king will turn on us if we leave the castle for good. If we stay here, at least we will have their protection and that of those living in the castle. We have no unseelie or blood witch sympathisers here.'

‘That's because half of them have left, Shaw. More most likely. Did you know all the Selkie left last night with Frank and Helio?'

The look on his face tells me he had no idea.

‘We killed both her sisters. Cut off her hand. Confessed we were in love with her daughter and then tried to kill her, too. She will not let a single one of those things go. Neve is coming.' He remains determined in his resolve. ‘Leo's border killed three earth witches earlier today as well,' I continue. ‘They're still after her. We're down to maybe fifteen living here now. Our allies are becoming fewer every day. They know something is happening, and they're getting out of dodge before getting caught in another war's crossfire. And I can't blame them. They're either the last of their species or were so damaged by the war that here is the only place that would take them.'

‘And they thank us by abandoning us.'

‘We've been killing them!' I hiss back, growing more angry and frustrated with every word spoken. How is he capable of being so fucking stubborn? ‘They wake up to find more of their friends missing. To find dead witches at our borders. To find pixie spies, Neve's spies, lurking in the shadows. And we're killing anyone who asks too many questions about Pix. We can't stay here like this, Shaw. We need to take her and go before they turn on us. We clearly don't trust them, or we would have told them the truth.'

‘And are we just going to pretend Archie's old fuck toy wasn't with Neve all along?' Dorian grunts. ‘The Banshee turned on us. They could, too.'

‘True!' I add, keen to try and sway Shaw's decision. ‘If the banshee was with Neve, then anyone could be. We need to go!'

‘She wasn't with Neve through loyalty,' he argues. ‘She was against Pixie. There's a difference. The banshee saw an opportunity to eliminate her competition for Archie and took it. And we had imprisoned her, need I remind you. No matter how desperate she was for you, Archie, the banshee was our prisoner. Nothing more. No. I'm confident no one here allies with Neve or her unseelie.' He returns his dagger to its sheath and grabs his coat before heading towards the door.

‘Is she any different?' Dorian asks as his hand reaches the door knob. Shaw looks back at him as Dorian nods to Pix. ‘She's our prisoner. Pretty damn sure she hates our guts too.'

‘You seriously think Pixie will turn on us and side with Neve?' he scoffs.

‘No,' Dorian replies, resting his elbows on his knees as he looks down at her. ‘But I think she'll set the whole world on fire in the vague hope of ridding herself of everyone who has betrayed her. Neve. Cole. Her coven.' Solemnly, he lifts his gaze to Shaw. ‘Us. She's learned to live with a lot, Shaw. She accepted the beatings and control from her father and coven. Accepted our capture and vowed to live as well as she could despite it all. I'm not sure she'll do either now. Not accept us, nor learn to live with any of it. Not now she knows her mother is the blood queen. Not knowing we're the ones who set her free. Not knowing that she is suffering every day because of the spell we forced her to do against her will. And not now she's… whatever she is.'

‘She's our witch. And she will forgive us,' he snarls as he leaves. ‘She has no fucking choice in the matter. It's not like she's going anywhere.'

‘She's a blood witch. An earth witch. And a blood drinker,' Dorian corrects him.

‘I'm extremely aware of that, Dorian. And keep your voice down.'

‘We're no closer to figuring out why she is the way she is.'

‘I don't actually give a shit why she is the way she is.' Shaw throws open the door, letting it slam into the wall so hard chunks of stone hit the floor. ‘I'll deal with Neve. We stay put. We're safe here. Make sure Leo is keeping the border strong, and if anyone else wants to leave, let them leave. Ungrateful fucks.' He storms from the room without another word.

Dorian continues watching Pix sleep as I take a breath.

‘We're fools for staying here.'

‘We're fools for many reasons, Arch. But if Shaw says we stay, we stay.'

With a sigh, I follow Shaw, but not before sliding the tips of my fingers through some more blood as I pass it.

Waste not want not.

I have to jog to catch up with him. His steps are long and agitated as he storms through the castle.

‘You good?' I ask.

‘Peachy,' he replies, glancing behind him to the bedroom we've left our girl. ‘She damn near ripped her arm off to spite me. Little bitch.'

‘She's pissed off. It will pass.'

He shrugs off the hand I place on his shoulder.

He watches me as I roll down my bloody sleeve. ‘She'll be angry that you and Dorian used your marks.'

‘She's about as angry as she can be, Shaw.' I laugh. ‘We lied to her. Used her. Put her soul at risk and brought back the blood queen who has teamed up and run off with her rapey-ex. What's one more thing for her to be pissed about? She'll forgive us. As you said, she hasn't got a choice.'

He doesn't reply.

‘Are we heading out again tomorrow?' I ask.

We've been scouting the towns and villages for days, checking for any sight of Neve and her kin.

‘Yeah. Sundown, you and me.' He smacks me on my shoulder.

‘I saw that sculpture on my way back in,' I add. ‘That great big "fuck you". She's getting better.'

‘Yeah. She's great at coming up with a variety of ways to tell us to fuck off.' He takes the hall to the left. ‘Get rid of the wine in the kitchens. I'm finding out who we have left and if they intend to abandon us as well.'

‘What will you do if they want to leave?' I call after him.

He glares darkly at me as he rounds the corner and disappears out of sight.

‘Death and carnage it is…' I grumble.

Well. What a shit welcome home.

I make my way to the kitchens.

I should have done this the first night we got home. I pour out bottle after bottle, feeding the wine and whiskey to the patch of grass beneath the kitchen window.

Shit. We must have a severe drinking problem. I never realised how much booze we all go through!

Outside, the clouds are dense.

Bring on the rain. Anything to encourage me not to go outside. I long to shift, and if I endure another day like today, I will give in to that urge.

I need to store up my supply of power until I feed again. I have one shift in me. Maybe for half an hour, if I'm lucky.

Which I rarely am.

As the first raindrops fall, the giant steel axe resting by the wood pile catches my eye, and an idea pops into my head.

Yes. A great idea. Right up there with us making her dinner when she first arrived.

This will cheer her up. I'm sure of it. I leap out of the window as the rain starts to fall, scoop it up and get back inside.

With the axe resting on my shoulder and whistling a tune, I head to one of the ground-floor rooms, kick the door open and stand smugly in the long-forgotten study.

‘Perfect.'

I walk in and slam the axe into the stone floor.

This is going to be perfect.