Page 43 of There's No Place Like Oz

“I might have to remove your gag just so I can hear you cry.” She kept grinding on my lap, but when my body wasn’t reacting how she thought it should, she only pushed further. “I do love it when you play hard to get.”

Just a little more.Her biggest mistake would be her arrogance. She expected a beaten down and defeated shifter, but she was about to get the king of lions who had something to protect.

She kept rubbing, and when she couldn’t get me hard, she tried pouting. “I’m not above using my magic to make your body do what I want you know. Make it easier on yourself, Leon.”

There!I yanked hard on my partially severed restraints until the fibers tore under my strength.

Before I so much as stretched my fingers, I was drenched with a scalding gush of blood from the beast men behind me, and crimson coated the both of us like a tidal wave. Gwen was knocked from my lap as two massive Kalidahs smashed down, face first, on each side of me. Their hearts followed, hitting the ground with a sickening thunk.

Two more thunks and two more thuds, and Tobias was also standing free.

And there, in the wake of it all, stood the scarecrow, sharp teeth bared, eyes narrowed, drenched in death, and

absolutely.

Fucking.

Seething.

Chapter 34

Her neck was in my vice grip, and her head hit the wall with every cursed ounce of strength in my body. I squeezed, then I banged her head on the stone, not once, not twice, but ten.FUCKING. Times. I counted every instance of stars flashing through her detestable fucking brain.

“You must be Gwen. I hear your sister misses you.” I snarled. “How about I send you to see her?”

When she smiled through the blood that poured from her nostrils and ran down her lips, I wasn’t surprised. A witch couldn’t be killed this easily—otherwise there wouldn’t be any left. If anything, being treated like this probably had her sopping fucking wet.

“I have a feeling she missesyoueven more.” She said so softly and sweetly, it made me want to slam her head into the rocks again. I might have, if she didn’t take that moment to wrap her legs around my waist, then her hands around my pinning forearm. “But your dirty talk is working for me. Keep going.”

With the sleight of hand of a martial artist and the gravity manipulation of a demon, she twisted us around, then pinned me on the floor with a knee on my back, and my arm jerked past the point of dislocation. I felt my shoulder leave its socket when she gave it a hard twist. My muscle fibers strained to stay connected.

“Plot twist, little puppet. I rule the beast men because I’m the real muscle in this castle. Not the other way around.” She giggled while her glare contradicted her feigned amusement. “You puppets are all the same. You think you’resopowerful, only becausewemade you this way. You would be a fucking corpse if my sister hadn’t been desperate enough to come on your dick. Don’t forget that what’s been given can always,alwaysbe taken away.” Another twist, until the muscle and tendon started to tear fully. That was her first mistake. “And all you’ll be able to do is watch as I take everything from you.”

As she sat atop me thinking she’d won, I just laughed.Oh how I fucking HOWLED. Then I jerked hard and tore myself free, leaving her to hold my severed arm in confusion. With the element of surprise, I threw her onto her back, pinned her under my weight, a knee on each arm, and I held her down by her neck.

“Dorothy. Now.” I snapped at my companions, who were taking entirely too long to get all of the restraints undone. I tensed my fingers around Gwen’s neck as I watched Leon pull a writing instrument out of our girl before making her decent again. When magic snapped my lost arm back in place, the lion tossed the pen over, and I caught it with my free hand. “Hildy always told me you were an artist, but I can’t say I’m impressed.” I twirled the marker between my fingers. “Your penmanship couldn’t even get her wet, and I’ve watched her jerk off to the fucking devil.”

The puppy helped Dorothy from the table, steadying her shaky legs, and Leon started fixing her clothing. Though the material couldn’t totally hide the ink on her chest. All the places this bitch would have cut into her. All the places I would happily carve into Gwen of the Wicked West.

Gwen stared up at me, still smiling. The witches were alwayssmiling. A bullshit strategy to make it appear that they might still win. “At least my magic actually works.” Her attempt at laughter shook convulsions through her neck, and I responded by tightening my palm. Still she managed to speak. She must have had a barrier that protected her windpipe. “Because she told meherpuppet had no feelings left at all, yet here you are, losing your mind over a plain, ordinary, boring human who will grow old and die in the blink of an eye. What comedy that her heartless warrior is acting like little more than a sensitive, love sick puppy. So I wonder, big, scary monster, are you doing this because you truly hate us, or have those shoes on Dorothy’s feet turned you intoherlittle puppet—” I slammed that marker down into her open mouth until it was hitting the back of her throat. She choked and gagged and she shut the fuck up.

“Dorothy.” I growled. I covered Gwen’s mouth so she couldn’t dislodge the marker, then I lifted my gaze to meet Dorothy’s, and she lowered hers to match mine. “Finish her.”

“What?” Dorothy’s eyes widened, still processing everything that was happening, yet not processing what I was saying.

“Youare the only one here who has the power to kill a witch. Don’t make me tell you again.” I annunciated each word very, very carefully. But Dorothy faltered. She looked to Tobias. She looked to Leon. I shook my head. “Eyes on me, Dorothy.”

A nod. And her eyes were on mine. She took one nervous step forward, then another. Gwen started to squirm beneath me, but I knew enough about witch magic to know that disabling her hands and her mouth took all of her conjuring ability away.

I also knew enough about witch magic to know that breaking her neck, taking her head, or stabbing her through the heart was impossible for a cursed puppet. That was the power they held over us. It was a safeguard, where no matter how strong and angry and motivated we were, we would never be able to truly fight back. As much as I wanted to yell at the lion for failing to protect Dorothy, I understood the magic that bound him perhaps even better than he did.

Gwen wasn’t my witch, butmy witchwould be the one to end her life.

And then Dorothy would be Leon’s witch too.

When Dorothy neared enough, I watched Gwen’s eyes bug out of her head as she took in the sight of Grunhilda’s shoes. She knew what was coming, and she knew exactly how easy it would be.

The two of them seemed to be having a non-verbal conversation of shared shock, fear, and uncertainty.

---