Page 63 of Wicked Chains
“He’s napping.”
"Show me," she demands, holding out her hand.
"No." I step back again, covering my pocket protectively. "He's got nothing to do with this."
Helena's smile turns cruel. "Everything you have, everything you are, belongs to the Blood Moon Coven now. Including your familiar." She snaps her fingers, and I feel a sharp tug as magic pulls at my pocket.
I grab for Hank, but it's too late. He flies from my pocket into Helena's waiting hand, his small green body squirming as she closes her fingers around him.
"Put him down!" I lunge forward, but Helena's magic holds me in place as effectively as Ash's did yesterday.
"So protective," she muses, studying Hank with cold curiosity. "How touching."
"He's just a frog," I say, panic rising in my throat. "He's harmless."
"Yes, he is rather pathetic, isn't he?" Helena turns Hank this way and that, like she's inspecting merchandise. "A fitting familiar for someone like you."
"Please.” My voice breaks. "Please don't hurt him."
Helena's eyes find mine, and what I see there makes my blood run cold. There's no mercy, no hesitation. Just evil.
"Actions have consequences, Miss Smith," she says, her voice almost gentle now. "It's time you learned that."
Her fingers begin to tighten around Hank's small body. I throw myself against the invisible barrier, my magic rising up in response to my panic, pushing against her spell, but it's not enough. I don’t have enough skill yet.
"Stop!" I yell. "Stop it! I'll do anything!"
"A little late to learn obedience, don't you think?" Helena raises her other hand, a small spark of magic dancing between her fingers. "Some lessons need to be memorable."
Hank's desperate croaking turns my panic into full-blown terror. "No! Please!"
"Helena."
The voice ricochets through the hallway, deep and commanding. Ash is in the corridor, his tall frame silhouetted against the light from the windows. He walks toward us, unhurried but purposeful.
"What are you doing?" he asks, his tone deceptively mild.
Helena doesn't release Hank, but she does turn to face Ash. "Teaching Miss Smith some much-needed discipline. She insulted the Hawthornes and the Kents at Family Day."
"Did she now?" Ash glances at me, then back to Helena. "And you thought killing her familiar was an appropriate response?"
"The girl needs to learn respect." Helena's fingers flex, and Hank squeaks in terror.
Ash’s green eyes darken. "Put the frog down, Helena."
"Excuse me?" Helena straightens, indignant. "Need I remind you who is in charge of this academy and who decides what is effective discipline?"
"Need I remind you," Ash says, "that Rose Smith's magic belongs to me through the contract? Any damage to her familiar could potentially impact her power, which is mine to command, not yours."
The two of them lock eyes in a silent power struggle once again. I stand in the middle, hardly daring to breathe, my eyes fixed on Hank's small form in Helena's grip.
"The girl needs discipline," Helena insists, but there's a hint of uncertainty in her voice now.
"And she'll receive it," Ash agrees smoothly. "But not like this. Not from you."
Another long moment passes before Helena's shoulders drop slightly. The barrier holding me in place vanishes, and she tosses Hank carelessly in my direction.
I jump forward, catching him just before he hits the floor. His tiny heart races against my palm as I cradle him close.
