Page 26 of Fire Touched

I glance at Carter, the same question written on his face. Do the Starlight Witches have the power to hold alpha werewolves captive? Since Julian hasn’t broken out and attacked us all, I’d say yes. If these witches are on our side, that’s comforting.

Elga pauses at the end of a hallway and peers at Carter. ‘He cannot escape. Don’t let him rattle you.’ The High Priestess turns to me. ‘Either of you. Think about your packs and keep your heads.’ The witch waits until we’re ready.

I turn to Carter, prepared to wait all day, or turn around and leave, if that’s what he needs. Staring at him, I can see the faint outlines under his shirt, his body wrapped with bandages. What must it have felt like, I wonder, to catch a blade in the chest? To have been a handspan from it piercing your heart? Terrifying.

I watch the conflict in Carter’s eyes. The desire to be strong and brave, and the shadows that cloud them. ‘You don’t have to do this.’

Elga doesn’t argue.

Carter’s choices are his own. He takes a step forward, peering down the hall. There’s maybe a dozen cells. At this angle, they all appear to be empty, but I can smell the Water alpha a few cages down. I hope he’s rotting and miserable. His nephew takes one step, then another. Perhaps he hasn’t decided yet, one step at a time, and I won’t let him walk alone.

I keep stride with him, making it clear I won’t walk ahead without him, nor let him walk alone.

Just before we see into the cage, Carter’s breathing hastens. I set a hand on his shoulder, which seems to ease him. I watch as he builds himself up, shutting away what he’s feeling in preparation. He removes my hand from his shoulder, gives it a gentle squeeze, and lets go, stepping up to the cage.

Now that I fully understand the bond between Carter and I—that we’re meant to protect each other and bring our packs together—I’m not surprised by the gripping urge to yank him away when Julian glares at him like a wolf about to eat a mouse.

It takes all my self-control not to pry Carter away from the bars, out of the alpha’s reach, but I know he wouldn’t appreciate that, so I refrain.

‘Ah, nephew! I wondered how long it would take you to work up your courage to come and see me. Only a couple of days, braver than I expected.’ Julian’s voice is low and cool.

His prison consists of little more than a bunk, a toilet-sink, and an empty, discarded tray which probably held his breakfast. Suitable for the bastard, I think, making a mental note to compliment the alpha on his dungeon.

‘And you,’ Julian drawls, his icy eyes landing on me. ‘The woman who stole my heir.’ He raises his arms, still snaked with red from my fire. ‘Not to mention your warm, little hug marks. That was cute, by the way.’

Anger wells in my gut. As though sensing this, Carter sets a hand on my wrist.

‘I came to talk to you, Uncle, about our pack. I don’t want more lives needlessly lost.’ Carter manages to keep his voice calm, controlled.

‘They will not be needless, they will come to retrieve me,’ Julian says dismissively. ‘Now, if that’s all, get out.’

‘No.’

I look into Carter’s face, his shoulders set in determination, and pride flutters through me.

Julian’s gaze darkens. ‘What did you say to me?’

Carter’s hands clench into fists at his sides, but his voice remains steady. ‘I said, no. The witches here will raise their defences. The Water wolves will die trying to get to you. I can’t have that.’

Julian pouts. ‘Oh, how sweet. Look who’s trying to be a little leader.’

Ignoring that, Carter pushes on. ‘I came here to ask you to send them away, so that your own pack members won’t perish. There’s no need for more bloodshed.’

Julian bobs his head from side to side, as though considering. ‘Yeah, no, see the problem with that’—his hand shoots out, too quick to anticipate, through the bars, grabbing Carter’s throat—‘is that I quite enjoy bloodshed. Or have you already forgotten?’

Carter tries to pull away, but Julian’s grip is like iron.

I try to pry Julian’s fingers from Carter’s throat, scratching and clawing, but it does no good. Carter gasps under his tight grip. ‘Help!’ I shout to Elga.

The witch shakes her head, eyes sad. ‘It is you who must help him.’

I turn to Julian. My anger reaches a fever pitch. I launch a coil of fire at his arm, gripping tighter than before. ‘Let. Him. Go,’ I growl.

Julian shouts, furious, yanking back his burned arm. ‘You bitch,’ he snarls. ‘You’ll pay for that.’

Carter staggers back, his hands on his throat.

I back up from the wall of bars, regretting not having pulled Carter away sooner. I turn, reaching for him. ‘Are you okay?’

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