“This isn’t going to be a problem, is it?” Belle looked ready to seize hold of her hand again and drag her to the man if Cass said that it was.
She forced herself to shake her head.
Breathed through the panic that gripped her and tried to calm her mind. She had been prepared to do this for centuries, had known this time would come. She could do it.
She blew out her breath.
It fogged in the air.
She frowned and looked at the other witches, at the way their breath did the same, and then down at her arms as her skin turned to gooseflesh.
The doors behind her burst open and frigid wind blasted into the room, had her teeth chattering as she whirled to face that direction at the same time as Belle. She struggled to maintain her balance as ice rapidly spread across the floor and climbed the walls, chilling the soles of her feet and tearing shocked gasps from several witches.
Snow swirled into the building, as thick as a blizzard, obscuring her view of the outside world.
She peered into the storm as it battered her, tiny flakes stinging her eyes.
A shape formed.
Tall.
Lean.
Formidable.
The snow fell to form a thick layer on the floor, swirled around her ankles and piled up in the corners of the room and against the furniture.
The temperature dropped so rapidly that many of the younger witches collapsed and older ones rushed to help them, gathering them into their arms and transporting them away.
Out of the reaches of the god who strode towards her through the storm, his handsome face set in dark lines, his eyes as white as snow ringed with darkness and spikes of clear ice rising like a crown from his silver-white hair. Icy talons glittered over his fingers as he flexed them and fangs flashed between his lips as he sneered at Belle.
A god on a warpath.
A god who had never looked so damned hot.
Around Cass, the other four witches began muttering incantations and colourful light flared from their palms as the spells built.
Relief to see him gave way to dread.
Cass cursed him for coming after her and making this all so much harder on her. Just the sight of him had her wanting to run into his arms, but she had to go through with her duty. She couldn’t turn her back on her family. She couldn’t.
He raised his hands and ice shot up around her, numbing her skin, and the four witches spat foul words about him as it encased them.
Leaving just Cass and Belle for him to deal with.
She glanced at the blonde witch, a plea bubbling up her throat.
But Daimon held up his hands and spoke.
“I’ll give Cass the child you want.”
Cass rocked back on her heels, her gaze whipping to him as a single word burst from her lips. “No.”
Shock danced across his face, followed by darkness that invaded his irises, tainting them with more black.
“I’m not good enough for you?” His eyes searched hers and she cursed herself again as she caught the pain in them. “You’re rejecting me?”
No, she wasn’t. She shook her head, hoping he would see that in her eyes, afraid of putting voice to those words as her heart ached, throbbing painfully in her breast.
When he looked as if he might attack the coven to stop her, or do something worse like leaving without another word, she dragged her courage up. He deserved to know the reason she didn’t want him to be the one to impregnate her and provide the coven with the child they demanded.
She took a step towards him, regaining his focus, pulling his eyes away from Belle and the others and narrowing the world down to only him at the same time.
“It’ll kill you,” she whispered, her eyes leaping between his as her eyebrows furrowed. “Surrendering a child to this place… Sacrificing all ties to it.”
His eyes rapidly darkened and shifted to beyond her, to the place where the children had been when he had entered, and something built in them. Something dark and terrible.
“Is that what happened to you?” he said, his voice a low growl as his gaze edged back to her. “You said you didn’t have a family. Is this what you meant? You never knew your parents. You don’t know if you have siblings here.”
She closed her eyes, drew down a slow breath, and fixed them on him as she opened them again. “It’s the way of all covens.”
He stared deep into her eyes, the pain that built in his a reflection of what she felt inside. She watched as it all dawned on him, as he realised that she was right and that he hated it.
He couldn’t let the coven take a child of his and strip everything from it—the love of its parents, its family—to mould it into a witch loyal to the coven and the coven alone.
“Go,” she whispered, pain expanding inside her, spreading through her until it filled all of her and she had to fight back the tears.
“I can’t.” Two words, spoken with an edge that said he meant them. “Not without you. I can’t leave you here, Cass… knowing that you don’t want this.”
She swallowed hard.
He held his hand out to her, his eyes softening, the darkness in them fading to reveal ice-blue.
“Fuck this place. Fuck this duty.” The ice talons that covered his fingers shattered and he flexed them, tempting her to take his hand. “Do you really want to bring a child into this world only to abandon it?”
War erupted inside her, a battle between two sides of her heart, one that needed her family, her coven, and was afraid of losing it, and one that feared losing him and Marinda.
He was asking her to choose between them.
If she went with him, she would be turning her back on her coven. They had been there for her for two centuries, had raised her and supported her. While she didn’t agree with their methods,
