Page 16 of Claimed By Her Monsters
Mick stares, jaw clenched, fear plain.
“You’re a witch.”
Chapter Twelve
I'm Scary Too
Ilaugh.
Loud, doubled-over laughter with my hands braced on my knees and tears pricking my eyes. “Witch,” I wheeze. “Good one, Mick. You really had me going there.”
It takes a minute to realize no one laughs with me.
Slowly, I straighten. “Uh…guys?”
Mick isn’t grinning anymore. The terror on his face has softened into something far worse…pity. “It’s true,” he says quietly. “You’re a witch.”
I snort. “Yeah, right. There’s no such thing.”
“Yes,” Mick insists, eyes wide. “There is.”
“Is not.”
“Is too.”
We bicker like grade-schoolers until Caspian cuts in as if he’s the calm in a storm. “It’s understandable you’d be confused, Maddie. We keep hidden from humans, but all the creatures, the monsters, you learned about are real.”
My mind blanks. Somehow hearing it from Caspian makes it harder to brush off. Still, I shake my head. “Ican’t—I don’t—believe this.”
Mick exhales like a man who’s about to do something stupid. “Didn’t want to have to go there, but fine. Stand back.” He shakes out his hands, squishes up his face andcontorts. It happens so fast and is so bizarre that my mind slips, unable to comprehend how his body ripples, bones snap, fur explodes. All I know is one minute a man was there and the next it’s a wolf. A big, scary, hulking gray wolf with bright green eyes and teeth that could rip me to shreds.
Every instinct screams run, so I do. I shriek and bolt across the room, feet moving quicker than thought, not stopping until I’m tucked against someone warm with my face buried in the curve of a strong neck.
Alister.
“Really?” His voice is dry, but his arms come around me anyway. They click tight like emotional seatbelts. “I’mthe one you run to when you’re frightened?Me? The most dangerous creature in the room.”
I don’t budge, just burrow deeper into him, taking comfort from the firmness of his chest, the deep rumble of his voice under my ear. In the hearth, flames ripple from frantic to steady like someone laid a palm on the fire’s chest.
“You know, Al,” Mick bites out, “your superiority complex is honestly offensive. What do you mean you’re the most dangerous? Have you seen my claws?”
“Yeah,” Caspian chimes in, almost sulking, “I’m scary too.”
I drag my face from Alister’s neck. A single tear tracks down my cheek. At the sight of it, rage glitters in Alister’s eyes. Every muscle taut, he yanks me closer, shielding me, and snaps, “Knock it off, Mick. You’re scaring her. Look! You made her cry.”
Immediately, the human version of Mick is crouched next to me, naked chest heaving. He cranes around Alister’s shoulder, frantic. “Aw, Maddie, honey. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.”
His kindness just makes me sob harder.
“It’s just”—I gulp—“this guy attacked me today”—sob—“and I stabbed him”—shuddering breath—“and then I met you all, and”—sob—“I thought I’d made some new friends, and”—sniffle—“now I find out that you’re all monsters, and”—I wail—“you say I’m one too.” I’m gasping, sobbing, choking. “And it’s my birthday and It’s—it’s been a long day.”
Alister rubs soothing circles on my back. Mick pats my hair with a big clumsy hand. Even Caspian edges closer, murmuring sympathetically with every complaint.
“I’m sorry,” Alister says. “Normally witches are coven-raised. They understand what to expect when they turn nineteen.” He blows out a breath, clearly frustrated. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to go.”
“Nineteen?” I repeat, swiping at tears that won’t stop.
“Witches awaken on their nineteenth birthday.”
