Page 10 of Enemies By Fate

My astute ears catch her whimper, but I don’t look back. I don’t claim to understand any of what just transpired, but something tells me we need to contain her before she does more damage.

Chapter 3

Asher

Her fear is thick and tangible. I almost feel sorry for her, but I keep my sentiments to myself. Neither one of my brothers is in any state of mind to accept my opinion on this woman, whoever she is, and I’m in no position to show weakness. Squaring my shoulders, I clamp my lips together and maintain my silence like always, listening instead of being heard like Malachi.

“Bringing her into Oak Valley is a bad idea,” Malachi says again. “She’s clearly a witch. Bringing her into our domain puts us all at risk.”

Thankfully, Warrick isn’t hearing him. His attraction to her overcomes his concern about what she is, and I’m just as captivated by her as my older brother.

“At risk for what exactly?” Warrick scoffs, no longer concerned by her uncanny ability to steal his form.

She’s afraid now, as she should be, trying to hide away as we gather around the bars of the holding cells at our estate.

A magnetic pull draws me toward the bars of the underground cells, luring me closer to her, where she cowers in the shadows. The glow behind her ear illuminates the darknessof the cells, drawing one of the other prisoners closer toward her. Tavric is captivated by the mark, just as I had been at the full moon party, his eyes widen with an interest that bothers me.

“Give her space,” I command him.

Immediately, the prisoner backs off, skulking away as he sees me watching. He peers at me as I summon the girl closer, my brothers still fighting quietly behind me.

“She’s a witch,” Malachi reiterates to Warrick. “A shapeshifter. Keeping her here is problematic.”

“She’s a shifter—one of us,” Warrick counters. “I don’t think she’s a witch. Witches can’t shift.”

“Sure they can—or at least they can give you the illusion of shifting,” Malachi insists. “Maybe she never really shifted in the first place and just made us believe she did.”

Half-listening to their whispered argument, I lock eyes with the girl, her fear mounting as she licks her lips nervously.

“Come here,” I growl, extending my finger toward her and wait for her to approach, but she keeps her distance.

She eyes the other captives warily as if trying to figure out who they are and why they’re there.

“Closer,” I urge her.

She inhales shakily and shuffles forward, but maintains a healthy space, as if she thinks I’m going to reach through the iron bars and throttle her.

“What’s your name?” I ask her.

She wraps the blanket around her makeshift dress tighter, the potato-sack garment standard issue for all the female prisoners, although there haven’t been many in recent years.

Defiantly, she throws her head back and glares at me. “You don’t know?” she asks.

My brow furrows, almost in amusement, but I realize she’s asking me more than offering a challenge.

Tavric circles her again, staring at the glowing mark behind her ear. The crescent moon shape triggers something in the recesses of my mind, and I still can’t place it.

“Leave her,” I order the prisoner again, and he grunts, ambling to the far side of the cell, folding his arms sulkily. Suddenly, I don’t like this arrangement one bit, having her alone with the male captives in the cells.

“Open the door,” I order the guard.

Both my brothers stop speaking, and the other prisoners shuffle forward hopefully, as though they expect I’m freeing them.

“Stand back!” the guard snaps at the male prisoners, baring his fangs.

The woman pulls the thin blanket tighter around her, blue eyes shooting nervously toward me as Warrick and Malachi stalk forward. She’s the only prisoner who steps back as the door clangs open—the noise echoing through the tunnels below our estate.

“What are you doing?” Malachi demands.

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