Page 45 of The Witch and The Blood Oath

Freya

As I stared at the smooth planes of Walker’s face, I willed the cowboy to live, though in my bones, I knew he would. Something deeper than lust or affection tied us together. Something etched into my bones knew he would survive.

As I checked the healing poultice Cady and I had covered his wounds with, I wondered if Walker and I were somehow magically bound to one another after the lengths I had gone to save him. It was, however, unheard of.

Maybe it was just my heart that hinged on his steady breaths.

“I still can’t believe you made a deal withtrolls,”Ryder said, “but shouldn’t you be getting their prize to them?”

I didn’t want to leave Walker’s side, but Ryder was right.

“I’ll watch over him,” Cady promised without taking her eyes off her brother.

I smiled. “Of course you will. Why don’t you and Ryder get him back to camp? Arion and I will deal with the trolls.”

“Are you sure I shouldn’t come with you?” Ryder asked.

“I’m not sure they’ll give me any information if you come,” I explained. “You weren’t the one who struck the deal.”

Though it clearly pissed him off, Ryder couldn’t argue with that. Grumbling under his breath, he slung Walker over his shoulder and led Cadence back to the campsite. The little girl paused.

“Be careful, Freya.”

I nodded and set off for the trolls. Whatever they had to tell me, they had better hope it was valuable. If Walker had almost died just for me to be warned of the dangers ahead, the trolls might actually reach extinction.

“Go ahead and shift, friend,” I told Arion. In a flash of crunching bones, he did as I asked and transformed back into a calico kitty. I scratched behind his ears and continued.

As I trudged through the forest, my clothes dripped, and my teeth chattered. The mountain air was crisp. Every step, my boots squelched and sloshed. Arion walked beside me but kept a safe distance to avoid getting dripped on.

I considered summoning air to dry myself but decided against it. Exhaustion lined my muscles, and I couldn’t waste precious magic on my comfort, at least, not until I made it safely back to camp.

The moss in my pocket was the one patch of warmth on my body. I was grateful I had snagged a handful of it once I had plunged out of my air bubble, but I hoped it would be enough to satisfy the troll’s commands.

I worried the trolls had left or I had forgotten how to reach them, then raucous laughter filtered through the trees. As I approached their campfire, heady magic and honied smoke curled in the air.

When they noticed me, they paused for a moment and took in my soaked, shaking appearance. Laughter swelled again, and fanged grins shined in the firelight. I gritted my teeth and pulled the glowing moss from my pocket. Out of the dark waters, its light was a dim glow. It was slimy like normal moss, but it warmed my chilled palm.

“Is this the ember you seek?” I demanded.

Goddess help them if it isn’t.

Their huge jaws went slack at the sight of it, and hunger gleamed in their round eyes. Earthy magic swelled as if I’d stepped into a magical cave. I repressed my own magic to keep it from rising in response. Arion’s hackles raised, but he remained in cat-form. There was no need to threaten the ancient creatures who greatly outnumbered us, not until they became a true threat.

“Witches and wars,” the green-haired one crooned. “Bonded by blood and stronger than ore…”

I prayed for patience.

“Information,” I bit out. “I brought you the ember in exchange forinformation.”

The troll closest to me—with brown hair and hazel eyes—reached for the ember, but I held it back. It growled, and the earth beneath my feet rumbled. Fear snaked down my spine, but I didn’t give him the moss.

“Witches and wars,” the troll grumbled, “stirring the blood, shaking the heavens…”

“The heart of the wolf,” another continued, “but the sorceress’s vessel.”

“Kill or keep.” The troll took a hit of the blunt. “Cage or claw. The cave of the ancients will tell you all.”

The brown-haired troll held out his hand again, and, though I still wondered what in Hecate’s name they were talkingabout, I relented. There was some hidden truth in their words. There had to be.

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