MesMerize Her (Descended from a Witch Book 3) by Atlas Rose

Author:Atlas Rose [Rose, Atlas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-04-28T16:00:00+00:00

12

“Wait,” the old man called.

I shook my head and turned to Wilds. There would be no more waiting, no more playing catch-up. My Hexer was out there…and he needed me.

Keane rose from the seat and checked his weapons.

“I said…wait.” The mortals’ leader stumbled toward Wilds as I lifted my gaze to the darkness and tunnels.

“There’s another way out of here, right?”

“You can’t leave.” I swallowed a flare of anger at the words as the old Alpha stumbled close and grabbed my arm. “I said, you can’t leave.”

Wilds froze.

Keane turned his head just a little, enough to stare at the old man’s hand on my arm.

“Listen,” I started, and met the leader’s tired eyes. “I get what you’re trying to do here. You want to keep me safe. But my Hexer—”

He just shook his head, and the gnarled fingers around my arm slipped. “You still don’t get it, do you? THIS ISN’T ABOUT YOU!”

His roar cracked through the tunnel, rebounding until it faded away.

Everyone stared at him, mouths open, eyes wide. Even the healer was still.

“This isn’t about you.” He shook his head, long gray hair swinging with the movement.

For a second, I thought he was crying. He curled his shoulders and lowered his gaze, staring at the ground for a long time until he finally lifted his head. “You saw what they do to us. I know you did. You followed the call of the stone…and you saw.”

He lifted his hand, but it wasn’t to me this time. “Illian.”

Out of the small group of children, she came. Her eyes widened…eyes I’d seen before—in my vision.

“You?” The words slipped from my lips. She was so small, tiny arms…filthy clothes. Her lower lip trembled as she lifted her gaze to mine. She couldn’t have been more than three years old. But this one had bright green eyes, not brown.

It wasn’t her, not the girl who’d touched the stone. But she could be.

Terror stained her soul like the one in my vision, the kind of terror that never went away.

“They take them…they take everyone,” the old man murmured. “They bring them to the cities and the fields. They make them…” his voice trembled, then grew thick and husky.

The soft skin around his throat worked as he swallowed again and again, then finally he gave a slow nod. “Show them.”

Tiny fingers lifted to the buttons on her blouse, and one by one they opened.

Keane turned his head as the top of her shirt opened and slid down one shoulder. He couldn’t look at the child, did not see what we all saw.

But Wilds didn’t move, eyes fixed on her shoulder, his jaw clenched until the muscles bulged. “Motherfuckers.”

Her shoulder was a mass of scars, ones that carried all the way to the juncture of her neck.

Bite marks. Claw marks…knife marks left behind.

Markings moved under my skin, and that savage power in me blazed to life as I reached out with unsteady fingers and brushed against the child’s pain.

Men…they’d done this.

Immortals.

And Kings.

“We are nothing more than playthings for the Wolves and the Vampires…and a currency for the Kings.

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