Page 47 of Captive Witch

“No, Boston,” the Lockwood witch says, rolling her eyes.

“I just… I don’t understand. Why bring me back here of all places? And why are your eyesgold? I—my grandmother had gold eyes like that,” I whisper, staring at her.

Her jaw ticks a few times as she gazes into the fire, then she looks up at me and her features soften. “I brought you here because it’s time. You’ve grown. Your control is impressive, and your connection with your wolf is… well, impeccable, really. Better than I’d expected.” She holds out her arm, letting Vesta scurry down her sleeve and sit in her palm. “I’d never have expected your wolf to help you learn control over your flame magic, but you surprised me there too.”

“It’s time for what?” I ask, my cheeks flaming at the compliments. Years of being told I was powerless—useless—being told I’d never amount to anything because I couldn’t do a single thing right. Years until I finally came to terms with being a nobody, amounting to nothing, dedicating my life to helping Jules instead. And now… now people believe in me, and I’ve never felt so awkward.

Because you’re worth believing in,my wolf says.

“Time for you to join me.” The woman sets her rat onto her shoulder, standing and brushing off her dark pants. She watches me expectantly, and I get to my feet and follow her as she turns to walk deeper into the forest. “The well is in danger,” she says. “Monique has realized that Ediva, your grandmother, may nothave been telling such far-fetched stories.” Scoffing, she flips her hair over her shoulder. “As if Ediva would’ve ever been one to make up such nonsense.”

“You knew my grandmother?” The question tumbles out of me, unable to move past the color of her eyes and the sharp edge of grief digging into my chest at the mention of her name.

“I did. I…” She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is—”

I grab her arm, forcing her to face me. Crows’ feet dance at the corners of her golden eyes. “It does matter. I want to know why your eyes look like hers. How are…Whoare you?”

A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth. “I’m Eri, the Lockwood witch—the lycan witch—guarding the well and its magic. I’m also your aunt.”

Letting her go as if she’d burned me, I snatch my hand back to my side and stumble back a couple of steps. “Mywhat? You’ve… you’ve refused to help me all this time, and you’re my aunt? Is this some kind of sick joke to you? I-I need to get home. Gideon—”

“Gideon is fine,” she says, waving her hand in the air. “He brought Jules and Wren back to his house, and he’s probably on his way here already. Unless he’s stupid, then he’s probably halfway to Rhode Island.” She cackles, the sound loud and maniacal, a hand pressed against her stomach as she doubles over. “Gods, that would be hilarious.”

Pressing a hand to my head, I close my eyes. This is a dream. I passed out, and I’m dreaming. Or the bounty hunters drugged me. That has to be it. They drugged me to bring me back to the coven—

This isn’t a dream,my wolf says, and I can practically hear the eyeroll in her voice.

Groaning, I open my eyes and see the tear in my leggings. I touch a finger to the unblemished skin and realize my head doesn’t hurt like it had before.

“I healed those,” Eri says, smirking again as she turns and continues walking.

“Um, t-thank you,” I say, then sigh. “I’m sorry, but I still don’t understand any of this.” I wave my hand between us.

Stopping, she throws her head back with a huff. “You’ve been thick-headed this entire time, so I’m not sure why I thought this would be any easier.” Turning to face me, she plants her hands on her hips. “You needed to believe in yourself, not just ask the well to do everything for you. It isn’t what the well is meant for, niece.” She presses her lips into a firm line and raises her brows at me. “Ediva told you the stories of the well because she knew you’d need it one day. Monique, that awful bitch, suppressed your powers from day one, but she couldn’t figure out how to get rid of your grandmother for years—who was my mother, if you didn’t quite pick that up.” She shrugs. “Your dad’s mother.”

“My… You’re my dad’s—”

“Sister,” she finishes. “Yeah, keep up.”

“Is my dad here?” I whisper. I’m not sure how I’d prefer her to answer. Yes, he’s here, but he never came to get me, leaving me to live with Monique and her cruelty, or—

“No, I’m sorry,” she says quietly. “He wanted nothing more than to be a father. He would’ve loved you immensely.”

Tears threaten to spill from my eyes as I nod.

She reaches for me, but I stiffen, and she drops her hand back to her side.

“Why would Monique kill my grandmother? She… she always put me to bed and told me stories. She…” I swipe angrily at the tears pouring down my cheeks.

“She was incredible.” Eri smiles sadly, staring off and delving back into her memories. “She raised us, me and your dad.Gods, it was centuries ago… We lived in this little cottage near Tuscany, but one day, Abe, your dad, he went out, and… well, he was bitten. Our mother refused to let him live a life of immortality alone, so we were bitten by him once he became his pack’s alpha.” She rubs her wrist where a halfmoon of scars shines under the sun’s dying light. “He met Monique, and after a couple of months together, heknew—he knew she was pregnant when she left. We used the coven’s ties to search for her—for you.”

“If my grandmother found me, why didn’t he? Why didn’t you? Why wait all this time?” I throw my arms to the sides, pointing at the vast forest around us. “Why not help me when I needed you?”

“You don’t think I wanted to? You don’t think we tried to take you from her? She—” Eri shakes her head, glaring at me. “No. You don’t get to ask questions like that without knowing the rest of the story, Adara.” Grabbing my wrist, she drags me down the dirt path until we come to a pile of stones arranged in a circle, only a foot or two high. “Sit and listen, niece.”

Feeling like a small child, I sit on the ground and stare down at my hands in my lap, looking up only when she starts to speak again.

“We did find you, and we came here to get you, but then we learned of the well and its legend. I’ve been guarding its magic for years, alone. Ediva guardedyou. She was weakened, poison working slowly through her system with every meal. It took Monique years to finally get it right—powered silver mixed with nightsbane. It’s a horrible, painful death. It kills your wolf and your magic, makes you into a shell of the woman you once were.” She licks her lips as her nails lengthen into claws and her eyes glow in the dark surrounding us, rage rippling through the air. “Every time she tried to get that spell suppressing your powers removed, Monique would threaten to kill you. At onepoint, we thought we could just take you, run off, and remove the spell later… but Monique had thought of that too—a tracking spell was placed on you.” She turns her eyes toward me, decades of emotions swirling through them. Grief. Resentment. Regret. “We couldn’t save you, niece. Wetried.”

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