Page 55 of The Soulless Witch

Some monster I was, people would get disappointed with me.

Sighing with resignation, I pushed myself up just as the last of the sun rays disappeared behind the peaks of the trees, and the world was gradually plunged into darkness. The door to the room opened with a swoosh, and I didn’t have to turn to tell who those quiet steps belonged to.

“Is it time?” I asked, letting my legs fall to the floor. I wiggled my toes through the soft carpet, enjoying the feeling for a moment before pushing myself up.

“The celebration is in a few hours,” Roman replied in a soft voice when I turned to look at him. Putting a tray with steaming food on the nightstand, he slipped his hands into the pockets of his impeccable suit and cocked his head. “How are you feeling?”

Pointing my forefinger at him, I guided my magic to slide over his chest like I would have done with my hand, untucking his tie from its place and loosening it up. My power undid the buttons of his vest next, sliding down to his belt.

“Normally, I wouldn’t say no,” Roman said while he kept his eyes locked on me, “but I told you that next time, I will not be rushed. So unless you wish to miss Samhain, stop now.”

I allowed my smile to widen but lowered my hand. Feeling my powers swirl inside of me, growing stronger and stronger, made me feel like myself again.

I circled the bed, watching Roman redo his belt and buttons with unhurried movements. I was just passing him by on my way to the bathroom when he caught my wrist. Warmth spread through my body as I met the dark, loving gaze that brought back the memory of our conversation, of the vows we made. Something had shifted between us, and while fear still gripped my throat, so did something else.

Pulling me toward him, Roman dipped his head to brush his lips against mine with such gentleness that I honestly considered missing Samhain.

“Bathe and come eat,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on my cheek before nudging me toward the bathroom. “I’ll have the staff help you get ready.”

Before I could reply, he was already gone, the door closing behind him with a click. Sighing, I headed toward the shower, trying to keep my mind on what we were going to do tonight.

It had been ages since I attended a witch gathering, so I couldn’t help but feel a sliver of nervousness settle into my empty stomach. Regina had spoken of acceptance and respect, but I knew those were empty words. I had heard them enough times before. Still, being among my own kind…it was different. My memories of my home village, of my family and the people there, were hazy, but I could remember the warmth, the excitement, and the unity we all felt when we gathered to give honors to the Hallowed Goddess.

I missed that.

But tonight wasn’t about any of these things. Tonight was about finding out how many of the witches were in bed with the hunters, and what they were planning. Tonight was about finding out what got me killed the last time, and why.

When I wiped the steam from the mirror, I noticed with a note of satisfaction that the dark circles and the ashen tint of my skin were gone. My eyes were the bright shade of green I remembered, and the power humming inside wrapped me in a soft glow that any supernatural creature could see. I looked like a witch again, not a shadow of one.

A knock came at the door and an unfamiliar voice asked me if I was ready. Pushing myself off the sink, I strode to the bedroom only to come face to face with a young woman in an old-fashioned maid uniform. There were two more women waiting by the bed. My eyes slid to the new addition to the room—a chair with a low back, and a tall box, almost as big as a coffin. The latter stood half-open, revealing numerous shelves and cases with what looked like makeup and powders.

“Please sit comfortably, Miss,” the woman who didn’t wear a maid uniform said. Tall and slender, she was rocking on the soles of her feet with almost childish excitement. “My god, you are so beautiful! It will be an honor to work on you! We’ll start with your hair first, then we’ll do the makeup. I’m thinking of something dark to accentuate those beautiful eyes of yours. And with your dress, it would be perfect!”

I looked around for Roman, but he was nowhere in sight.

Sitting in the chair, I let the woman talk to herself while another maid brought the tray with the food, making herself comfortable by my side as if she planned to hold it while I ate.

“Please have some food, Miss,” she said with a friendly smile, nudging the plate closer. “Master will be upset if you don’t. He made it himself before you woke up.”

“Roman cooked that?” I asked, eyeing the dishes suspiciously. “Since when can he cook?”

“Master has a lot of hobbies,” the girl grinned, then reigned in her amusement. “Would you like me to feed you?”

“I think I can handle that,” I murmured, picking up the fork she offered.

It took them a long time to get my hair styled in big, accentuated curls that fell over my back, then paint my face until I looked like one of those unrealistically beautiful actresses in the movies who woke up with full makeup on. One of the maids plucked something from the armoire, the fabric shimmering in her hands like she was holding a piece of the starlit sky. She presented it in front of me with a huge grin, waiting until I gave her an approving nod. Roman must have prepared all of this while I was asleep.

The maids helped me into the dress, zipping me up and adjusting my shoulder straps. The neckline dipped almost to my belly, but the built-in bra helped keep everything in place. The material was soft and light, and despite the long skirts, it was easy to move in.

“Ready?”

I spun around at the sound of Roman’s voice, only to find him leaning on the doorframe, an appreciative smile dancing on his lips. “Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful.” I strode to him as the others pulled back, watching us from the corner of their eyes. “You could have gone for something more modest. It is a holy night, after all.”

A playful spark twinkled in his eyes as he took my hand and pressed his lips to it.

“That’s not really your style, though, is it?” He looked at the women behind me, giving them an approving nod, then tugged my hand. “Shall we? We don’t want to be late.”

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