by C. L. Bright
“I will,” I assured him. “I suppose I should find Nidia.”
“Yes, she’s anxious to head out.”
I took a deep breath and went in search of my stepmother. It might not end in a bonding experience, but I’d get to go for a run with my father at the end of the day.
Chapter 2
Nidia was a real witch.
She’d been all smiles and even gushed about how excited she was to teach me about trading with the Azureans while we were preparing to leave. It had all seemed too fake and over the top, but my father had bought into her lies.
He’d told her I was nervous about leaving the Heathergate Refuge, and I’d seen her smirk before she’d pretended to offer me reassurances.
She kept up the fake supportive tone in front of my father, but she fell silent as we walked to the trucks parked close to the edge of the Ivorfalls.
As we neared them, I stared out into the mist that always seemed to surround the edge of the Heathergate Refuge. I climbed into the backseat as my mind wandered to the story of our first princess, Morena.
My gaze remained fixed on the mist as we passed through it, and I imagined for just a moment that I saw Morena warning me to turn back.
She wasn’t there, of course. It was just my overactive imagination and paranoia getting the better of me.
Everything was going to be fine.
I started giving myself a pep talk for the trip. No matter what Nidia did, I would not rise to her bait. I would make my father proud.
“Are you going to answer me?” Nidia demanded.
I bit back my angry response. “Sorry, my mind wandered. Why are we stopping here?” I looked around. “Is this where we’ll walk from?”
I’d thought we had at least a twenty-minute drive after passing the Ivorfalls, and I was certain we hadn’t gone that far.
“How can I teach you anything if you never listen?” she muttered as she and the driver stepped out of the truck. “I was saying that in some cultures, the firstborn male child is the future leader.”
“Too bad it’s not that way here,” I said under my breath as I climbed out.
The guards in the other truck had also stepped out, so I figured we’d traveled farther than I’d thought while I’d been lost in my own thoughts.
“Are you giving me attitude?” she asked.
“No, I’m just saying that I’m not all that excited about being the leader,” I replied honestly. “You didn’t have to take me out with you today. In fact, we can go back now. You can tell my father you don’t want to train me.”
She snorted. “Right, and how do you think he’d react to that?” She didn’t give me a chance to respond. “Don’t pretend you aren’t reveling in the fact that you’ll soon be the ruler. You’ve always been selfish, greedy, and spoiled.”
Nidia stood toe-to-toe with me in an obvious power play. Since she was more than six inches taller, she expected me to look up to meet her angry, light-brown eyes. Instead, I stepped back and crossed my arms in front of my chest.
“I’m tired of dealing with you and your attitude. Before you accuse me of being selfish and greedy, you might want to take a look in the mirror.”
Her thin lips pressed together in an angry line before she laughed. “So, the pampered little kitten is hissing and showing me her claws. You’re pathetic. Tell me, Juliet. Are you going to threaten to tell your father I’ve been mean to you? Are you going to run to your daddy for protection?”
“No,” I replied with a sweet smile. “I will be your ruler, whether you like it or not. You might want to remember that.”
“You’re a fool if you think you’ll ever be our leader,” she spat out.
“Unless you’ve found a way to change our laws, then you’re the fool.”
Her laughter echoed around us. “Change the laws? Why would I need to do that? What makes you think you’re going to make it back from this trip? Accidents happen to scrawny little kittens like you all the time.”
“Have you lost your mind?” I gestured to the guards. “You’re threatening me in front of witnesses.”
The guards were used to seeing us fight, so they tended to ignore us, but Nidia had crossed a line by threatening me. Once they reported her threats to my father, she would be banned from our home. My father would never forgive her.
“We’re going back,” I told the guards before turning toward the truck.
“You’re as foolish as your father,” Nidia taunted. “The witnesses are on my side.” Her attention shifted to the guards when I turned to face her again. “Take her bracelet and get rid of her.”
Not one guard had moved, but I felt unease creep up my spine.
“Do as your told!” she shouted at the guards.
When the guards advanced on me, I turned and ran, hoping to lose them in the brush. If I lost them, I might be able to change forms and make it back to the Heathergate Refuge. That was my only hope. I doubted I could count on the spellcasters at the trading post, even if I could find my way there.
I heard footsteps behind me as I raced through the brush and ducked under a low-hanging branch.
“Don’t let her get away! If she escapes, you’ll all die traitors!” Nidia’s shout to the guards sounded much too close.
When I saw the clearing up ahead, I hesitated. It would put me out in the open, but I didn’t see any way around it. If I headed to the left, I’d hit a cliff; to the right, I’d hit a creek that might be running deep. With no other options, I raced into the clearing, my legs moving as fast as they’d carry me.
I was almost there.
Only a few more steps and I’d be into the next patch of brush where I’d have an easier time escaping.
The dart hit the back of my neck. With a scream of frustration, I reached back and yanked it out, but it was too late. Whatever drug it had been dipped in was already spreading through my system, making my limbs sluggish.
I tried to stay on my feet.
One step closer.
Two steps.
I had to fight the drug.
It was no use.
The world spun around me as I collapsed.
Rolling to my back, I glared up at Nidia’s smug face.
“Go ahead and kill me,” I slurred.
Her laughter sounded tinny. “Kill you? Oh no, that would be too easy.”
“My father will never forgive you for this.”
“He’ll never know the truth,” she said with a laugh. “Ellis will be named his heir after your father hears about your untimely death.”
I tried to speak, but a black fog swirled around me, dragging me into the abyss.
Chapter 3
I felt the cool earth beneath my cheek as I regained consciousness. My mind still felt fuzzy, so reality was slow to return.
Caught between sleep and wakefulness, I imagined I’d gone for a run and decided to nap by a tree. A cool breeze moved along my skin. I tried to stretch my arms above my head, but metal bars stopped me.
In a panic, my eyes shot open, and I looked around. I could barely move.
Taking several deep breaths, I tried to control my rising fear. I was in a spellcaster’s trap. Though I’d never seen one before, my father had told me all about them. Spellcasters used them to catch rogue shapeshifters—those who didn’t have a truce with the local spellcasters.
I continued to try to calm my fears and get my heart to stop pounding against my ribcage. There was no reason to panic. I was the future leader of the Heathergate Refuge. My bracelet would keep me safe.
My bracelet!
Nidia had taken it and left me in a trap.
“No, this can’t be happening.”
Rage chased away my panic, and I embraced it since it gave me more courage. I couldn’t let my stepmother win. There had to be a way out of the trap. I needed to focus.
The sun was setting, meaning I’d been unconscious for several hours. That explained the muscle cramps. I’d probably been curled in on myself on the hard ground for much of that time.<
br />
“I’m going to check the traps over this way!” a man called out from my left.
“All right,” another man shouted back. “Hopefully, we find one. This has been a very disappointing day. I’m going to check the last trap by the creek.”
I held my breath as I listened to his approach until I saw his shadow fall over me.
“What are you doing in there?” he asked as he squatted beside the trap.
His tone was kind, but I didn’t buy it for a minute. This warlock was the enemy of my kind. Our truce only existed because we needed each other. We weren’t friends, and without my bracelet, I had no protection.
I moved slightly so I could try to look at him as I replied. “I’m taking a little nap.”
“You’re a feisty witch, aren’t you?” he asked.
Witch?
Could he truly believe I was a witch?
He might have been toying with me, but I decided to play along and hope he’d let me out of the trap so I could escape.
“I’m sure you’d be less than pleasant if you couldn’t move your arms and legs,” I pointed out.
He flashed me a sheepish smile as he reached out and ran his hand along the bars closest to him. The heat of his magic penetrated the trap and moved along my skin.
His warlock energy felt somewhat unnerving as it seemed to reach out to me, but it didn’t feel unpleasant. Quite the opposite, it felt unnerving because it was a pleasant sensation.
When the spell released, I struggled to my feet to make a run for it, but my legs were too cramped, and I felt weak. The drug in the dart was still affecting me, and I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me. Before I fell, the warlock caught my arm to steady me.
“Maybe you should sit here for a minute,” he suggested as he sat and pulled me against his side. His hand remained on my arm as his thumb caressed my skin. “How did you end up in a trap?”
He was an attractive warlock, probably about a foot taller than me with dark brown hair pulled back from his angular face. His eyes were silvery blue, and he had an olive complexion.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “Someone drugged me, and I guess they put me here.”
He looked angry. “It must have been one of the rogue familiars. If we hadn’t been checking traps today, you could have been killed.”
“You don’t check the traps daily?” I continued when he shook his head. “What if someone was in there for more than a day? They could die.”
He let out a sigh. “I’d prefer to check them daily, but our territory is too big. No other family is going to volunteer to help, even if they have time. Thankfully, we don’t find too many dead familiars stuck in traps.”
“Would it bother you if you found more?” I asked.
“It’s a lot more cleanup, and the smell can be horrible.” Though not surprised, I still felt somewhat disappointed by his answer until he continued. “I don’t like the idea of them suffering a slow death. It’s both cruel and wasteful.”
“Yes,” I whispered. “That would be a horrible way to die.”
Tears burned the backs of my eyes, and I shivered. I could have died that way, though I wasn’t certain my current situation was much better. I had to get back to the Heathergate Refuge. If I could find a way to get word to my father, he’d help me.
The warlock’s arm slipped around my shoulders as he pulled me close. “Hey, you’re going to be okay now. Are you injured?
I shook my head.
“What’s your name?”
“Juliet.”
His arm felt nice around my shoulders, and I decided there was no harm in leaning into him and enjoying his warmth. As the wind blew his scent around my nose, I resisted the temptation to inhale deeply.
Did all spellcasters smell this nice?
No one had ever mentioned their scent being appealing. It was almost drugging, distracting me when I should be focused on fleeing.
“Like in the play,” he remarked.
“Play?” I asked.
He nodded. “It’s very old, from the time when non-magical humans still lived on this continent.”
My father had told stories of non-magical humans once being the dominant species in this area, but one hadn’t been spotted in my lifetime.
“Sorry,” he replied. “I often forget that not many others are fascinated with the history of the dark times. Juliet is a character from one of the older plays humans performed.”
“So, you’re interested in history?” I asked.
“If we forget our past, then we’re doomed to repeat the same mistakes.”
“And these old plays help you avoid repeating past mistakes?” I asked.
“No,” he admitted. “They amuse me. My family thinks I’m crazy. They’d prefer it if I didn’t care so much about history since it’s not part of my role among our people. What do you think?”
“I think it’s hard to be who your family wants all the time,” I replied.
His fingers trailed across my cheek as he stared at me. “Is that how you feel with your own family? Do they pressure you to fulfill a role you’re not suited for?”
“Yes,” I whispered. “But I can’t change who I was born to be.”
His hand left my cheek, and he nodded. “True, but we can still have other interests.”
“Tell me about this play you were thinking of just now,” I prompted to keep him talking until I felt up to making a run for it. That’s the excuse I planned to use, anyway. I didn’t want to think about how nice the warlock’s voice sounded or the strange draw I felt to him.
“It’s about these two people who fall in love,” he began. “Their families are bitter enemies, so they don’t want them together. Neither could stand to live without the other, and there was some big misunderstanding where Romeo thought Juliet was dead and killed himself. Then, when Juliet realized he was dead, she followed him.”
“That’s a horrible story,” I replied. “Do you really like that play, or are you messing with me?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “It’s not my favorite, but I enjoyed the story of the star-crossed lovers.”
“But they were both idiots,” I scoffed. “No love is worth dying for.”
He chuckled. “Feisty and cynical. You are an interesting witch.”
“Are you planning to tell me your name?” I asked.
“Sorry for being so rude,” he replied. “I’m Dante Verdugo.”
“Verdugo,” I whispered, immediately recognizing his family name.
The Verdugos were known as executioners. They trapped and often killed rogue shapeshifters.
Who else had I expected would be checking the traps?
The Verdugos were the boogiemen of my kind, despite our truce.
“Yes,” he confirmed, eying me with curiosity. “Have you heard something bad about my family?”
“Surely, you know the reputation of your family.” That response seemed noncommittal enough to explain my reaction.
He placed a hand on my cheek, and I turned to face him. “We do have an interesting reputation. Do you want to know if any of the rumors are true?”
I shook my head.
“You aren’t curious about me?”
I shook my head again.
“Liar,” he accused before his lips brushed against mine.
Magic zinged between us, and we both gasped. Eyes wide, our gazes locked as our magic continued to mingle and glide along my skin, raising goosebumps in its wake.
My reaction to this warlock was instant and intense. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced with any shapeshifter.
“This can’t be happening,” he rasped out as he reached out to run his fingers along the threads of our intermingled magic.
I tried to scramble to my feet to run, but he caught my arm, refusing to let me stand.
“Don’t run.” It was half plea and half command.
“You don’t understand,” I began.
“I understand perfectly. You’re not a witch.”
Chapter 4
“Dante! Where are you?”
I struggled to free my arm, but Dante’s fingers tightened. Despite the awkward angle and the drugs still making me sluggish, I swung my free arm around to hit him. There was little chance of winning against a trained killer, but I wasn’t about to give up without a fight.
Enslaved or dead—those were my only choices if I gave up.
“There’s nowhere to run, Juliet,” he whispered. “We’ve set too many traps around here. Stop fighting me before Ambrose gets here.”
“So, I’m supposed to let you kill me or put me in a cage?” I hissed.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised. “I don’t understand what just happened between us, but I can’t let you run off. You’ll never get out of here. Play along with whatever I say. Please, just trust me to keep you safe.”
Trust him? How could I possibly trust a hunter and killer of my kind?
I didn’t have much choice, so I relaxed.
Dante released my arm and slipped his arm around my shoulders just as a warlock approached. He had the same silver-blue eyes and angular face as Dante. His build was leaner, and his dark brown hair was cut extremely short.
The warlock grinned when he saw Dante’s arm around me. “I see you’ve been doing a different kind of hunting. Are you going to share your prize?”
“Don’t be a jerk, Ambrose,” Dante warned with no heat. “You’ll have to forgive my brother, Juliet. He thinks all witches love him.”
“They do,” Ambrose bragged. “I’m a much better catch than my baby brother. Enough of me stating the obvious. I don’t recall seeing you before, Juliet. Who is your family?”
“Juliet is from the Tulurgate Peninsula,” Dante replied without hesitation. “She’s a member of the Shadow Walker family.”
Ambrose looked impressed but a little doubtful as he regarded me. “You’re awfully small for a hunter.”
The Shadow Walkers were another family to be avoided, but I’d been told they rarely traveled close to the Heathergate Refuge.
I could have let the insinuation that my size made me weak go had Ambrose not continued. “I can’t imagine you’d be able to defend yourself against a familiar. They’d eat a little witch like you alive.”
