Page 17 of The Witch and The Blood Oath

“I suppose it’s too late to bow,” I said, “given what I’ve done.”

I fell to my knees anyway. Walker drifted to my side and did the same. I dipped my chin in reverence, but the weight of Cordelia’s stare was an anvil I couldn’t escape. As she finally looked away from me, I sucked in a sharp breath of relief. Walker stiffened beside me.

“What a mess,” she crooned in a sparkling, soprano voice. “I could erase it all, as well as you, your coven, and your project here, Freya Redfern.”

The magic in the air grew thicker, until its noxious fumes burned my lungs. I finally understood the fear and approbation that was attached to High Witch Cordelia’s name.

She was magic incarnate.

Upon this realization, however, I no longer wanted to cower in fear.

I wanted to scream.

“Circe Lennox,” I whispered and raised my chin. “Luna Nightingale, Rose Halloway, Helena Wood.Sybil Redfern.”

Cordelia’s magic pressed in on me like an invisible vice, but I rose on shaky legs. Though he trembled, Walker mirroredthe movement. Cordelia continued to stare with a mask of vacant grace. Her poise only added fuel to my fury.

“Do you know those names?” I asked. “The names of the witches who were killed while you didnothing?”

My magic flickered inside me, just out of reach. I didn’t care it was gone. If I was going to meet my end, I would go down doing what my mother would’ve done.

I would go down fighting for my coven.

“Kill me if it pleases you,” I said, “but all I’ve done—all my coven has done—is the best we can. Can you honestly say the same?”

As she stared at me with her terrifying, lovely eyes, I prayed to Hecate that she would spare my coven and Arion and—

And Walker.

“Freya is right,” Walker said.

I flinched. In my gut, I knew he was about to say something very foolish.

“She and her coven acted to eliminate a threat. They never put themselves at risk for exposure—it was me who did that. I’m the problem here—we all know it. If someone needs to be punished, it’s me.”

As Cordelia tilted her head in consideration, Walker shifted, almost imperceptibly, in front of me. Cordelia’s gaze tracked the movement like a lioness monitoring her prey. I braced myself for the death blow.

Cordelia laughed.

Like bell chimes, her chuckles echoed off the barn and across the hill. She lifted a manicured nail to wipe non-existent tears from her eyes. I glanced at Walker and wondered if my confusion was as clearly painted across my face as his was.

I could practically hear him asking,What the hell?

I gave the tiniest shake of my head and hoped my message was clear.Keep your mouth shut.

I focused once more on Cordelia, and the High Witch choked down her laughter.

“I’m sorry,” she said and smoothed her hands over her billowing skirts. “I haven’t been so amused in decades. The thought that you, Walker Reid, though you weren’t even born awitch,would get to pick your own punishment is…is…it’s preposterous, but I do thank you for the laughter.”

Cordelia cleared her throat and met my gaze. “And I’ve heard you have tenacity, Freya Redfern. I’m glad to see my sources were right. You’ll need all your strength for what’s in store, though I can’t promise you won’t wish I had merely Debased you. Remember, this is my mercy.”

“Is speaking in circles part of witch-training?” Walker muttered.

Cordelia glared at him, and he swallowed.

“No,” she answered sweetly, “and neither is transforming a hunter—my people’s sworn enemy—into one of us.”

Cordelia smiled, and Walker took a deep breath. The High Witch strolled closer to me. As she ran her hand over her chin, she examined me like a scientist would a cell under a microscope. I fought the urge to squirm.

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