Page 34 of The Lost Child

“Blew up that entire fleet a few miles off the coast?” she interrupted, eyes sharp and keen.

Oh fuck. Itwastrue. I’d killed everyone! I was a witch, but an evil one. I curled myself around Canavar’s legs and cried.

I felt him jerk against me and the shocks jolting through me stopped abruptly. I stood and slashed at the rope holding his arms down, crying as I freed him. His arm descended down toward me, his fingers burying themselves in my hair but not pulling. Canavar bent over me like a beast, closing me off from the other women—no, witches. He snarled and growled like a possessed animal.

“Canavar, no. They helped me. They’re friends. Friends.”

I hugged him close, but he wasn’t listening. He was acting completely feral! Thinking fast, I did the only thing I could think to do. I reached up and hooked my arms around his neck, forcing his head down.

I kissed him.

His body went unnaturally still, even his lips as I kissed him. I tugged his bottom lip with my teeth, and when that provoked no response, I thrust my tongue inside his mouth. Like a switch that had been flipped, Canavar went practically boneless against me, then attacked my mouth with enthusiasm, holding me in place by my jaw and hair as he tried to devour me with his tongue.

One of the witches behind us coughed, and he quickly pulled his face away from mine, shoving me behind him before I could protest. I froze, remembering we indeed had an audience—women who were all witches. Real witches. Canavar growled at the crowd present.

“Interesting.”

“You are mates then?” the leader asked. Or at least, she acted like she was the leader with her robe and staff.

I blushed. “Uh, no. I haven’t—I mean, we’ve never—”

She held up a hand and I obeyed instinctively, my mouth slamming shut.

Canavar growled, and I wasn’t sure at who. Obviously it was for the witches who kept inching toward us, but he’d also shot me a look when I denied being his mate, a look of hurt.

Surely I was imagining things.

I couldn’t stop staring at the other witches. I’d never been around so many other women before in my life.

“You’re water witches then? Or earth?” I asked curiously. Perhaps one of them was my mother!

The leader blinked for a moment, befuddled, before collapsing in a fit of laughter. The other witches followed, snorting and giggling until a few had tears coming down their faces.

I tensed, and Canavar’s arms came around me, a dark growl continually emanating from his chest. I didn’t mind his possessiveness here.

“Water witches!” the leader squawked, wiping at her eyes. “In all my years!”

She regained control of herself, and turned back toward me. Her smile faded as she took in my unsure, wary expression. “Oh. It wasn’t a joke.” Her hand thrust out toward me. “Alkdama. You and your—” here she shot Canavar a glance—“friendhave been brought to the home of the blood witch coven. Well, thenewhome.”

I grasped her fingers in mine, her grip crushing. I squeezed back as hard as I could just to be a bitch, but she only grinned brightly at me. “Welcome home, sister!”

The rest of the women whooped as my hand fell to my side, and I fought the urge to flex the lingering pain away.

“Blood clan?” I asked. “So you’re—”

“Blood witches!” Alkdama proudly proclaimed. Her lips stretched into a smirk. “As are you, though likely untrained.”

Blood witch. I didn’t share their darker skin, but there were other characteristics I recognized. Was my mother a blood witch then? Or maybe her mother.

My head hurt.

The term was unfamiliar and yet not. Father had taught me about witches that lived on and around the continent, balancing the elements with their magicks and improving life for all: water, fire, earth, and air.

He never said anything about blood witches.

Then again, he lied a lot. And he didn’t know absolutely everything in life.

“I’m a blood witch? But–” I said it out loud, then shut my mouth. That didn’t seem right. I didn’t resemble themthatmuch.

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