Page 130 of Freeing Hook

Well, except for dead.

Though the faint light of the lichen on the cave wall shines through her body, I can still make out her curvy figure, her vibrant red hair, her pale skin and smattering of freckles. The way she carries herself would indicate that she’s older than me, though her cheeks are round and youthful.

“Wendy Darling, you must run,” are the first words from her mouth, startling me even more than her conjuration.

“It’s okay,” I say, reaching out to her, like I think I’m going to be able to calm her. Instead, my hand slips through her shoulder. She doesn’t seem to notice.

“You’re not safe here,” she says, her gaze flitting frantically around the empty cave.

I shake my head, trying to gather the words to explain. “I know you can see the others, but they can’t touch me. The spell—it only brought you close enough to communicate with me. Whoever else is here with you—they can’t get to me.”

Even so, a chill snakes down my spine. When her blue eyes meet mine, I expect to find confusion in them. Instead, I find pity.

“Death has not taken my mind,” she says. “It’s you who does not understand.”

Deciding it’s useless to argue with a paranoid ghoul, I do my best to explain. “There was a fae. People call him the Nomad. We were told that you had the magic to break a curse.” I hesitate there, realizing this is my last chance. The last moment I get to decide.

I could keep Astor.

Just a few words, and I could rid Peter of his curse and keep Astor bound to me.

But then what? Live the rest of my life pursuing a man who doesn’t want me? Catching him, then having to wonder for years if his love is true, or simply the byproduct of magic? After what I witnessed in the orphanage, I know deep within me that I could never keep Nolan Astor.

“I’m told you know how to break Mating Marks as well. Properly,” I add, because obviously the Seer Astor went to as an adolescent claimed that very ability.

The Seer closes her eyes, looking pained. She shakes her head. “He’s as much of a fool as he was then.”

I blink. “I don’t remember telling whose Mating Mark I was wanting you to break.”

She levels me with a condescending stare. “I saw the two of you enter together. Who do you think brought about the earthquake that separated you?”

Unease ripples through my belly. I have to remind myself that this woman can’t touch me. Though if she can cause natural disasters, I’m not sure I should let myself be comforted. I can only hope that causing the ceiling to cave in didn’t use up too much of her magic.

“Why would you want to separate us?” I ask, though there can only be one answer. Predators separate packs because they’re easier to trap that way, easier to attack, rip apart.

I take a step back, my foot landing on a rock that scrapes loudly against the cave floor.

“You fear the wrong people, Wendy Darling,” says the Seer, unbothered by my retreat.

Indeed, when I reach the mouth of the tunnel, the Seer flicks her hand, and vines sprout from the walls, blocking the entrance.

My heart pounds. “Astor!” I scream, hoping my voice will travel by echo through the cave.

“Hush, girl,” says the Seer, pacing now, pulling her red hair back into a tail at the nape of her neck with a leather tie she unwinds from her wrist.

“Astor, he—”

The woman is upon me, her hand wrapped around my mouth. I can’t feel it there, but something about her being this close startles me enough to silence me. It’s one of those moments in time that feels as though it’s happened before, like I’m being transported back to a previous version of my body.

Her vibrant blue eyes blink at me in pain.

It’s only now that I notice the gash across her throat. The slit of flesh, no longer bleeding in death, but ruined all the same.

My heart stops in my chest.

We took her back home to bury her.

“No,” I whisper, horror gripping me. I do everything I can to make sense of what I’m seeing, but my mind is whirling in circles.

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