Page 49 of Hunted By Her Demon Wolves

Her breath caught when one shadow stepped into a shaft of moonlight, and she looked into a familiar pair of golden eyes. She was just as beautiful as she’d been three millennia ago. Hecate’s silvery skin shone like diamonds, and her ebony hair was pulled back in a thick braid, complimenting the simple crown that sat between two spiked horns. Eilea didn’t need to look at her own skin to know it also had a silvery sheen, for she could feel horns protruding from the top of her head. She ran her tongue over her teeth. Her incisors were sharper, longer. She’d taken on her demon form. Though she was in every physical sense Elria reborn, she refused to forget the Amaroki blood that flowed through her veins, a gift from the goddess Amara.

“Sister,” she answered curtly, for she also refused to forget it was Hecate’s foolishness that had caused the rift in their family, the destruction of their kingdom.

“It has been too long.” Hecate bowed her head, looking far too contrite.

Behind her sister, her four sons stood as still as statues, the tension radiating off them palpable, their mate by their side.

“It has.” Eilea pursed her lips as her gaze drifted to the full moon outside. An illusion, for there was no moon in this dimension. “It looks much like I remember.”

“I did my best to replicate Atlantia,” her sister answered, taking another step forward, her hands opening and closing into fists.

Eilea took a step back. Had this been a different kind of reunion, she would’ve hugged her sister. But this meeting only brought painful feelings to the surface. “And the temple?” She didn’t bother hiding the accusation in her voice.

“Mostly finished.” Hecate took another step forward, her palms flattened against her thighs. “It just needs finishing touches.”

Stepping back again, she gave Hecate a long, cool look. “Like a dungeon for witches you don’t trust.”

Hecate hung her head, a lone tear sliding down her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

Bitter laughter erupted from her throat. “Oh, that makes it all better.”

“I know it doesn’t.” Hecate swiped the tear.

An ocean of tears wouldn’t be enough to wash away the pain she’d caused. Eilea threw up her hands. “My sons have been in hell for three thousand years!”

“Two thousand six hundred and thirty-four.” Her sister blinked. “And we will get them out.”

Hecate’s sons voiced their agreement.

“No,” Eilea growled, “I will, and when I return, we will have our reckoning.”

With that, she brushed past her sister, not bothering to apologize when she jarred her shoulder. She marched up to Horatiu, remembering with clarity that he’d been the one to lock her up at his mother’s orders. “Where’s my horn?”

He motioned to his other brother Dragomir. “Here, Aunt,” Dragomir said, holding out the horn to her. The horn had once belonged to a taurus, long and wickedly curved to produce a deep baritone.

She snatched it from him without another word and marched toward the door that she knew led to the hallway, her footsteps echoing across the slate floors.

“Where are you going?” Jezebeth shrieked at her back.

She stopped, her spine stiff. “To get my sons.”

“You’ll need help.”

She could feel the djinn’s spirit floating behind her, the coppery taste of magic filling the air. She held up the horn. “I’ll have help.”

“Wait. Please.” Jezebeth floated in front of her, holding out her hands. “That’s my daughter down there, too.”

Eilea scowled down at the djinn’s feet that ended in a long whisp of smoke. “How can you help me when you’re tethered to your lamp?”

Jezebeth clasped her hands together, her gaze drifting to something over Eilea’s shoulder. “Hecate said there was a spell to release me.”

Eilea shrugged. “Then why hasn’t she released you?” Aggravation wrapped a noose around her spine. Every second delayed meant more torture for her sons.

The djinn’s gaze shifted to Hecate. “I-I don’t know.”

“Because I don’t trust you,” Hecate said as she crossed the floor to them. “Not after my sons’ mate told me all that you did to the Amaroki.”

Though it pained her to acknowledge her sister was right, Eilea was inclined to agree. Still, she might need the djinn’s help. She couldn’t believe she was contemplating letting Jezebeth loose on the world, but she knew the djinn would do anything to save Phoenix. Eilea folded her arms, glaring at her sister over the bridge of her nose. “What is this spell?”

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