Page 81 of Wolf Hunter

We are no longer in the quaint little house downtown. The serum slowly wore off, and as they prepared me for transport, they introduced a sleeping drought to my already-drugged body. When I came to, I recognized nothing. The darkness made it difficult to tell the time of day outside of four stone walls with no markings, a faint chill in the air, and the distant drip of water—how cliché—I have nothing to go on.

They left me alone in the room for hours, until a single young witch came in to stare at me. She cocked her head to the side, her stupid hair flopping into her eyes as she took me in.

A piss-poor jailor or a curious mind, I have no clue.

“We’re going to make you pay for this, you know,” she told me in a sweet voice, licking her lips hungrily. “We’re going to make you bleed.”

She left when I offered her no answer.

So the solitude continued. They wanted me to fall in line and knew if they pushed me enough, this would turn into something nastier than they were able to handle.

Too bad for them, I’m used to being alone. I live my life slipping through the shadows. Unnoticed by anyone.

Finally, it’s come time for my trial, and Mae collects me and takes me into another room. This one is fully furnished with a roaring fire. Two plush couches sit directly in front of the fireplace, their backs to the flames. A half circle of wooden chairs with rigid rungs are lined up with a single stool in the center of the room.

Once again, there are no windows, making it impossible for me to figure out where I am. Where they’ve taken me.

Weak, I continue to struggle against their hold, but the magic is gone. Sapped out of me. They throw me down on the stool, and ropes materialize out of thin air, binding me down to the floor and making escape impossible.

Mae takes her place at the front of the room with the rest of the coven elders. The others file in behind her to fill the rows of chairs. All eyes are on me. The attention feels like a dozen heated knives poking into my skin from all angles.

“Tasha Ward, you’re brought here today in front of the entire Buson Coven due to a breach in contract,” Mae intones.

She doesn’t need to look so damned pleased with herself.

“Not only did you take money from the coven but you entered into an agreement to kill the Redcliff Pack alpha, Reid Holden. You failed to do so and thus reneged on the contract, as well as destroyed the respect of the coven.” Mae clucks her tongue.

She’s twisted her hair behind her back in an intricate knot of braids and curls. Done up pretty nice for this special occasion. I chuckle internally.

“Oh, sure. Your respect was what I went for the whole time,” I say, shoulders hunching forward. I’m so fucking tired. Of this. In general.

Let’s get this over with.

“Once lost, the respect of the coven is impossible to regain,” the woman to Mae’s left snaps.

“Like I said—” I begin.

Mae claps her hands for attention before I can go off on a tangent or anyone else can comment. One would think, in the effort of fairness, they’d have an impartial third party here to mediate.

I already know my fate. I already knew that leaving Reid alive spelled disaster for me.

Really, this whole thing is nothing but theatrics.

“How could you fall in love with a monster like that?” another witch asks me. Although Mae shoots her a warning glance, she continues. “It’s disgusting. Despicable. You’ve sullied yourself with a beast, and you aren’t the least bit remorseful.”

Her nose upturns slightly, and with her sticking the thing straight up in the air, I practically see clear through to her brain.

Or at least, the air where her brain should be.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” I reply.

“You entered into a binding contract,” one of the women calls out. “Forged by both parties, and you don’t see a problem with the way you’ve failed to deliver?”

“Sarah’s right, Tasha,” Mae says. “You failed us in a multitude of ways.”

Sarah, huh? That’s a pretty name. Too bad it’s been wasted on a fuckwit like her.

“I’m sorry if I didn’t live up to your expectations. Nope, scratch that, I’m not sorry. You’re a bunch of hypocrites,” I reply.

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