Page 132 of The Witch and The Blood Oath

“Hiccup?” Freya sneered. “We are confined in the dungeon of the most powerful witch on earth! All because we wanted to do the right thing andhelpyour goddessdamned mate! How dare you call me self—”

“Hey,” I said, but neither of them listened to me.

“Classic Freya,” Ryder continued. “Always ready to bail at the drop of a hat—”

“Classic Ryder,” Freya argued. “Always ready to jump headfirst into foolish, poorly thought-out plans, and point fingers as soon as those plans fail—”

“Thank the godsyouaren’t my mate.”

Freya scoffed. “Well, your mate and I have something in common—neither of us can stand you!”

Cadence studied Freya with interest greater than the kind invested in the redhead’s affinity for slinging insults. I wanted to know what idea had just struck her, but Freya and Ryder continued their verbal combat.

“Freya,” Cady said, but Ryder spoke over her.

“She would’ve had time to come around to me if you hadn’tgotten her kidnapped!”

My temper flared. “Enough!”

Both of them stopped and stared at me.

“Now is not the time to bicker and argue,” I snapped. “Cady sounds like she might have something to say that can help us get us out of here.”

Freya crossed her arms, and Ryder rolled his eyes, but both shifted in mild embarrassment for their actions.

Cady cleared her throat. “Freya, check your head wound.”

Freya sighed. “I didn’t argue aggressively enough to further hurt myself.”

“Just check it,” Cady insisted.

Freya touched the bloody spot on her head and realized the same thing I did—it was no longer swollen or bleeding.

“The wound,” she said, “it’s completely healed over.”

Cady nodded. “And Walker isn’t talking like he has the world’s worst sinus infection either.”

I touched my nose, and nothing hurt.

“We healed,” I said. “Either we were asleep a really long time, or we healed much faster than people without magic should’ve.”

“Did you do something?” Cady asked. “Anything you hadn’t done earlier when you weren’t healing?”

“We—”

Footsteps echoed down the dungeon hall, and someone slurped on a drink. All of us went silent. As the vampire guard came into view, he sucked on a blood bag through a straw with the kind of enthusiasm I usually reserved for a Slurpee.

“What?” the vampire said and grinned. Blood coated his teeth. “Do I have something in my teeth?”

I grimaced with both disgust for our guard’s diet and fear he had heard our conversation. The vampire kept talking, but my mind raced. Freya and I had touched—that was how we’d healed. I had passed off the heat under my skin as the sting of pain, but it had been magic.

If we could use our bond, we could find a way to get out of this damn cage.

Freya’s face lit in the way it only did when she figured something out. I nodded minutely, but the vampire caught the movement.

“Hey,” he chided. “You really can’t touch your girlfriend anymore. I’ll fetch one of the Handmaidens if you keep causing trouble.”

“Too scared to break them up yourself?” Ryder taunted. “That’s pretty cowardly, even for a leech.”

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