Page 106 of Magic's Rise

Still looking uncertain, Tris glances at Jacob and nods. “We’ll be right back.”

“Let’s go.” I lead Jacob up the porch steps and through the front door. “The good news is that Kaela, Aris, and Mina have been cleared of the poisoning charge. Aspen and Tris are going to let them out. And we uncovered a clue about fixing the barrier, so everyone’s going to be fine.”

“Really?” Jacob’s feet scuff across the floor behind me. “You think you can pull it off?”

“Yep, so no worrying about blood thirst.” I head to the kitchen, where the horrendous stench worsens, making my eyes water.

“Ugh, what’s that?” Jacob asks.

“Salvation.” I push through the swinging door and race toward the stockpot, worried that our noxious brew is burning.

The smell is worse than the last time, and I can’t help but shudder at the thought of this goo being slathered all over my naked body for the ritual.

A wooden spoon pokes out of the top of the bubbling vat, and I test the temperature of the handle before grasping it to stir. “We need to let this simmer for twenty-four hours to reach its full potency.”

“Didn’t you guys say you were going home?” Jacob asks, his voice quiet.

Embarrassed that our moment of weakness was overheard, my stirring slows. “Eavesdropping is bad manners, but we won’t give up that easily.”

“Good to know.” Jacob steps closer. “But you should have.”

“Wha—” Pain blazes through my skull, and everything goes black.

PACK SECRETS

Pain throbs through my skull, and I flinch as I crack open my eyes, squinting to offset the light. An unfamiliar room sways into focus, but something is wrong with my vision, because it tilts from side to side, leaving me seasick.

The bars of a cage surround me, and my cheek rests on cold steel. It takes my scrambled brain far too long to process through the pain and realize the room isn’t swaying. I am.

With a groan, I roll onto my back, and my foot strikes against the narrow confines of my prison. A thick chain rises from the top of the cage and loops around a heavy wooden beam overhead, suspending me in the air.

My breathing quickens, and I struggle to fight down the rising panic brought on by confinement. The last time I woke up trapped and stripped of control, Bryant had stood over me. To distract myself, I take stock of my surroundings, hoping to find something—anything—that will provide an escape route, or at least give me an idea of where the hell I am.

Past the confines of my cage, I see a dimly lit, concrete room, with sheet-draped squares that remind me of Owen’s cage in my basement. A werewolf holding cell, which means I’m still in the pack compound. A staircase on the right side of the room leads up to a closed door.

I spot the hinges in the bars and crawl over, my shift in weight increasing the swaying of my prison. Cold steel freezes my fingers as I rattle the door, but it doesn’t budge an inch. Panic surges through me, my self-restraint breaking, and I shake the cage harder, sending it spinning.

Losing my balance, I sprawl onto the solid floor.

A chuckle fills the air. “Did you really think you could break through a prison designed to hold a werewolf?”

I push upright and spot Jacob standing in the shadows.

Anger shoots through me, pushing back the panic, and I reach for my wand, but my nails scrape my empty sheath.

“Looking for this?” Jacob twirls my wand between his fingers like he’s auditioning for some twisted magician act. “Isn’t magic just infuriating? Witches need these little sticks to cast spells, and without them, you’re powerless.”

“Speak for yourself.” I clutch the bars. “At least I don’t have to wait for the full moon to turn into a wolf.”

“Touché.” Jacob leans against the damp wall. “But that won’t be an issue for long.”

I look around once more, but there’s nothing within reach that can help me. “Why did you lock me up like this?”

“You witches should be more aware of your surroundings in a town of werewolves. Conversations travel much farther than you think.” He smirks. “You need to be able to touch the ground or be up in the air, right? That’s how you connect to your magic?”

My fingers tighten on the bars. “I’m not an elemental witch, Jacob. And wands are only support tools. They’re not what makes magic happen.”

“Oh, yeah?” He arches an eyebrow. “Prove it.”

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