Shit. I realize with growing horror that these aren’t wolves torturing Lawson. They’re witches.
“Lucky for us, you left shifter territory. That means you’re mine now.” My lips form the words, and a woman’s voice speaks coolly as the body I’m inhabiting leans over Lawson’s sagging form. “And you’re going to break eventually, wolf. You’re going to talk.”
More magic cuts through Lawson’s flesh, and he cries out, a strangled sound. The male witch steps in and uses his fists to pummel Ridge’s brother again, then the woman calls out, “Daniel, the shears, please.”
I don’t want to watch as a second man arrives with viciously sharp shears. The one who was hitting Lawson a moment ago seems carefully blank, almost bored. But this new man grins slightly, his eyes glinting with cruel glee. He doesn’t hesitate, stepping forward and snatching up the shifter’s hand before fitting the shears around one of his fingers between the first and second knuckles.
The crunch of bone and flesh as he snaps the shears closed is horrifying, and I wish I could press my eyes shut so I wouldn’t have to see it. But I’m not in control of the body I’m in, and the woman whose head I’m inhabiting doesn’t seem horrified by the sight before her.
She seems… satisfied.
Another finger is cut off, and I see Lawson’s body ripple as if he’s trying to shift. But he can’t. Something they did to him is stopping the magic of his wolf from completing the transformation.
The man named Daniel twists the shears viciously as he completes a third cut, and Lawson screams.
“I’ll talk!” His voice is ragged as he struggles to breathe through his pain. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He groans, a broken sound that makes me want to cry. “I’ll tell you everything. Please. Please stop. Please.”
The woman waves a hand at the two witch men, who dutifully walk away. Then she steps forward and puts a hand on Lawson’s shoulder. She doesn’t even cringe at the blood that soaks his shirt. “That’s a good dog. Now, I want to know all about the packs. But especially their protections. Tell me about those stolen sigils that mark the territory. Howl for me, wolf.”
Lawson begins to speak. Haltingly at first, as if he hurts too much to talk, but then the words come faster, more wild and desperate. He barely seems in his right mind anymore, and I wonder if she’s using more than just physical abuse and torture to get him to speak. Is her magic somehow creeping into his mind too?
However she managed to break him, Lawson doesn’t hold anything back. I know without having to be told that he’s spilling privileged information about the packs—secrets nobody should know, but especially not the witches.
“Sable, come back to me,” Gwen whispers in my head.
The sound of her voice startles me, breaking the connection of the bond, and I’m suddenly yanked out of the other woman’s body and thrown back into the tunnel. I run fast and far from the horrifying scene I just witnessed, racing down the tunnel away from the psychopathic bitch and her lackeys torturing Lawson.
Then my eyes fly open, and I find myself back in Gwen’s cabin.
Now that I’m back in my body, nausea rises up hard and fast, and I clap a hand over my mouth, turning away from Gwen and doubling over as bile rises up my throat. My stomach heaves, trying to force everything out of my body, but I manage to swallow back the urge to vomit.
My eyes water as I suck in deep breaths through my nose, still bent nearly double in the chair. Cold noses press against my face and shoulder as my mates gather as close to me as they possibly can.
“What did you see?” Gwen asks sharply, worry in her voice. “Did you find her?”
“Yes.” I peel my hand away from my mouth to let the word out, still fighting to control my emotions. My voice is raspy as I say, “Give me… give me a moment.”
Absolute silence fills the cabin for several heartbeats as I slowly gather myself. I want to just curl up in the fetal position and block everything out, but my mates need me. The packs need me. Denying that the kind of evil I just saw exists in the world won’t make it go away.
We have to face it.
We have to fight it.
Straightening slowly, I tell Gwen and my mates what I just saw, repeating everything I heard word for word. My voice shakes as I speak, and I can barely meet Ridge’s gaze as I tell them about the shears. My stomach pitches again, and tears burn my eyes.
It’s obvious Lawson found some way to break out of his confinement cell in the North Pack village, and then instead of hiding within the perimeter of shifter protections, he left the territory entirely. And now, the packs are in danger.
“She knows too much now,” I say in a rush. “She knows how to break through the packs’ defenses. We have to go back before they’re attacked. We have to warn them and prepare them.”
Ridge nods his lupine head and turns toward the other men to confer with them, a low whine spilling from his throat.
“What about the person to whom you’re bonded?” Gwen asks me. “Did you find anything else out about her? Any clues to her identity?”
“I don’t know. But she’s definitely a witch.” I clench my jaw, grimacing. “And a complete fucking psycho. I couldn’t see her face because I was inside her body, and neither of the men called her by name. She called one of the guys Daniel, but—”
Gwen’s face turns thunderous, and my voice cuts
