Chapter Seventeen

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Her head hurt. Her limbs refused to move. Darkness overwhelmed, and she felt indistinct in a familiar way. Remembering more felt like raking fingers through fog, but at last she recalled past experiences of a night filled with sex and drugs fading into a morning of discomfort and bile. When she tried moving her hands and found them restrained above her head, she blearily wondered whose place she'd been left at, and if Magdalene had already gone home.

Then she grew aware of a copper taste in her mouth—blood. The fight at the castle flashed into her mind, and her next breath came out as a gasp. Her hands wrenched against their restraints as she tried remembering what had happened after that horrible convulsion of muscle and bone, worse than any shift into her fur. There had been the knights, and the smell of Colton's blood, and the witch's triumphant smile...

Fingers brushed her cheek. She jerked away as the rustle of silk and the sweetness of perfume filled her senses. Her skin prickled even before candlelight flickered into being, revealing only the bed she was on and the woman sitting in the chair beside it.

She looked like a figure from a classical painting, remote and regal in an opulent dress of red and gold. Jewels glittered against pale skin and dark hair. Her smile didn't reach her eyes, which held a knowing glint that belied her smooth, youthful face. Despite the finery, Alice recognized her.

"It's you," she said, voice hoarse. "The witch who was with Vanna."

"Yes. I'm the hag mother of the coven. You may call me Ermentrude. Not many know my name, but then again you are... very special."

Alice just fought harder against the rope, closing her eyes and willing herself to change. The effort felt as useless as nails scratching at glass. "What did you do to me? What did you do to him?"

"I'm sure Cleo had no time to explain. She's terrible at hiding her resentment toward the rest of us, but she can be very clever. It was her idea to turn you into a deer whenever your black wolf is too close." The hag mother sounded very gentle, which somehow made her words hurt all the worse. "A chase without end. Even if he could catch you, you'd be nothing more than a terrified animal in his presence."

"No!" She writhed against the bed, trying to bite at the rope keeping her in place. "I don't believe you. I don't believe you!"

She flinched when the hag mother pressed a hand on her brow, as concerned as a mother tending to her feverish child. "Hush. It'll do no good to fight this. Your time with him is over. Hush, now."

And then it felt like she was bleeding out, all frenzy fading to a thick numbness. Her thoughts slipped and slid, unable to hold on to anything except the hag mother's words. She couldn't even speak. Dimly, she grew aware of the witch somehow smothering her will, and just as quickly smothering her panic over the realization.

"That's better. There's nothing to be afraid of. Once you've been inducted into the coven, you won't grieve for your old life. Everything will feel right and natural. This is all any of us were ever meant for." The witch stroked her hair before adding, "I'm sorry you knew so little about it before. Your mother shouldn't have isolated you."

When Alice managed to twitch away, the witch let her. "Yes, I've heard you're very sensitive about her. It's understandable and very unfortunate. Leaving you behind was just her misguided attempt at keeping you away from other witches. Every mother wants her child to be safe. What she didn't realize was that belonging to a coven is safety itself."

Fury tore a hole through the haze keeping her quiet. "You don't know anything about my mother."

Surprise flickered in the witch's gaze, but she answered smoothly enough. "I've never met her, if that's what you mean. Yet it's easy enough to understand her actions. A witch only hides among humans when she tries to turn her back on her nature. It's a pointless gesture. We can never change what we are."

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