Page 16 of The Savage Beasts of Salem

My heart jumped erratically. It was a heavy accusation, to be called a witch. I could only hope the Augur was too afraid to listen.

“Don’t call me that.” I felt the Augur cringing behind me. His cowardice seemed to give me strength, even though I could’ve happily seen him eaten by wolves. “We left payment. I know I’m unwanted, but he paid for his safe passage.”

The Beast growled mockingly. At that moment, I was thankful for the numbing effect of the tea; otherwise, I might have pissed myself.

“Pathetic,” he snarled. “This is what my brothers chase after? A weakling who sacrifices herself for her captors.”

“It’s not weakness to defend the helpless,” I said softly.

“You value your life as nothing next to them. Why should I do any different?”

I stared up at him, aware that I was shaking with fear. It felt like I had left my own body. Maybe I wanted him to kill me; it’d be a far quicker death than drinking the Augur’s poison.

And I had nothing to say to that. I did value my life as nothing compared to theirs. My entire life, I’d been told I was less; the only reason I lived was to serve their purposes.

The Beast watched my eyes, as though he read every thought there. “Well, witch? Are you worth something, or have you been bred to docility?” His disdain was clear, as though I were a village mongrel.

I thought about stepping aside and giving him the Augur. Why shouldn’t I? The Augur had never raised a hand to help me, only to harm.

Today he had taught me the recipe that they’d used to keep me numb and dormant, the tea that might one day kill me.

There was no reason to save him… but I felt if I stepped aside, I would also step away from an invisible but vital part of myself.

“He’s helpless,” I said, and it sounded far too much like begging. “He’s old. He’s done nothing to you.”

“On the contrary,” the werewolf murmured. “He does not seem so helpless when he is alone in the Wood.”

My mouth was dry as dust and my arms ached. I raised my chin, refusing to give in to the Beast. “You cannot have him. He paid his due.”

“Well.” The Beast rolled his broad shoulders. “They have broken your spirit entirely. It is a shame it had to end this way.”

His claws were fully extended, teeth exposed. My heart hammered against my ribs, begging me to step aside and save myself.

But he had not been the only one watching us.

The Beast from my dreams emerged from the deep shadows. His black fur had hidden him from view, but his scarlet eyes were fixed on the gray Beast.

I felt like I was in a dream again, the Beast telling me to run. That he was through with waiting.

He snarled at the gray one, standing upright so that I could see the deep scars criss-crossing his chest in silvery lashes against the black. “Back away from her, Ash.”

Ash. It seemed appropriate for the gray monster, his fur exactly the color of his name. His green eyes flashed at the darker Beast.

“You chase after a whipped dog, brother.” Ash’s snout wrinkled in mockery. “She is a broken cur. Look at how she defends her own captors.”

“She is young, and injured in spirit.” My dream-Beast stood between us, a solid wall blocking Ash’s path to me. “It takes time to break one’s bonds and heal.”

Surely I was dreaming all of this.

“You waste your time.” Ash growled, his eyes flicking between our faces. “Her spirit isbroken.”

The dream-Beast was so close to me, I felt the warmth radiating from him. His fur looked soft as silk, and I wanted to reach out and touch him.

“I decide what is a waste, and what is not,” he rumbled. “Let her pass, Ash.”

The gray Beast looked like he was about to disobey and lunge at me, but the dream-Beast reached out… and actually touched me.

He was gentle, his paw-like hand flat against my chest so his claws wouldn’t cut at me, but he pushed me away. Backwards, towards the village.

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