He could have transformed that pain into pleasure, instead he left me to burn.
“Get. Off. Me,” I snapped, releasing my grip on his hair and thrusting my hand into the dirt. His head snapped up from my throat, his teeth sliding out of the puncture wounds they’d created.
“Fuck,” he grunted as a branch slid between us and flung him back.
His weight left my body. One of the tree roots from beneath my body lifted me, sliding against my spine and guiding me to my feet. I touched a hand to my neck, peering down at it as it came away stained with blood.
“That was rude,” I said, bending down and gathering dirt from the forest floor. I rubbed it into the wounds, my skin warming as my magic worked to heal them slowly.
Thorne stood from the ground, adjusting his suit as he ran his tongue over the blood gathered at the corner of his mouth. “Worth it,” he said, eying the trees around him as I contemplated how to proceed. It seemed we were at a stalemate, deciding how best to proceed. We both knew what the other wanted, but getting it seemed to be another challenge.
The scream that tore through the night saved me from all thought, making my head snap toward the direction of the bus stop.
No.
I ran, bursting through the woods. The forest cleared a path for me as I sprinted, lifting my feet and giving me more speed. A dip in the ground would have slowed me down had a tree root not raised, creating something for me to slide along and cross it with ease.
No. No. No.
“Not fast enough, Witchling!” Thorne called out, his voice surrounding me. I couldn’t see him as he bled into the darkness that had encompassed the woods during our fight, focusing all my strength on getting there.
Ash screamed again, the sound of a male’s laughter following as I burst out of the woods and sprinted across the pavement at the bus stop. Each step took me away from the place that bolstered me, that offered me my only chance at fighting.
Three figures surrounded my brother’s small form where he stood at the center of the parking lot, perfectly positioned to weaken me.
Thorne rested a hand on my brother’s shoulder, his unnatural speed having allowed him to reach Ash and the others more quickly than I could. He looked down at my brother as I skidded to a stop in front of them, my gaze darting over Ash to make sure he wasn’t hurt.
Thorne’s voice drew my attention to him, his free hand reaching up to touch his bloodstained mouth in a wordless threat.
“Hello again, Witchling.”
8
WILLOW
People loaded the bus in the distance behind them, and I could just imagine that the person who stepped off was Ash’s father. He’d been so close to freedom.
“Let him go,” I whispered, pushing the words past the burn in my throat.
Vessels were unpredictable, and the one with his hand on my brother was just as likely to tear out his throat as he was to send him back to the Coven.
What they would do to him, what they would make him choose…?
“Now, why would I do that?” Headmaster Thorne asked, tilting his head to the side as he studied me. His eyes dropped to the dirt smeared on my neck, as if it disgusted him to see the mark of his feeding healed beneath it. “I already gave you the chance to come quietly to save him. You rejected my offer rather rudely.”
“Please,” I murmured, holding Ash’s brown-eyed stare with mine. His eyes were wide with fear, the faintest tremble racking his body as he silently pleaded with me. “Is there anyone you love? Anyone you would do anything to protect?”
His hand tightened on Ash’s shoulder as I turned my gaze to his, meeting the cold blue of his stare. The gold seemed to flash at my question, studying the tears that pooled in my eyes. “No,” he said, shaking his head subtly. “Vessels do not have hearts, Witchling. You’d do well to remember that in the coming years.”
“Then I feel sorry for you,” I said, and the words had no malice. They weren’t intended to hurt, only to offer sympathy. “That you’ll never know that feeling.”
“Even though it leads to this?” he asked, turning to glance at Ash for a moment. “Even though it weakens you?”
“Yes,” I said, nodding in confirmation. His eyes flashed at my answer, studying the path of a tear on my cheek. “I would feel this pain one hundred times over before I gave him up.”
Thorne released my brother’s shoulder, sliding his hand into his pocket as Ash spun to stare at him in shock. “Go,” Thorne said, nodding his head toward the bus waiting at the end of the lot.
“Gray,” the female Vessel warned.
The breath rushed out of my lungs, my body swaying forward as my shocked relief made me stare at Thorne with wide eyes.
Gray, she’d called him.
I pressed my lips together, nodding and looking at Ash. He couldn’t stop his oscillating stare, looking back and forth between the two of us in shock.
“I love you, Bug,” I said, giving him the only goodbye we would get. I didn’t dare to cross the distance between us, didn’t want to risk doing anything to make Thorne change his mind.
“Low,” he said, shaking his head as his little face twisted with tears.
“Go,” I said, nodding and encouraging him on.
“But what about you?” he asked, his voice breaking as the reality set in. That I wouldn’t be going with him.
That I never had been.
He shook his head, planting his feet as if he planned to stay with me.
Thorne took that chance away from him. “Look at me, boy,” he commanded, the magic of his compulsion rolling over my skin. My amulet warmed against my chest in response, but Ash followed the order. His eyes widened as they connected with Thorne’s, the gold at the center of his iris brightening as he held my brother captive with his stare. “Run. Get on the bus, and do not ever look for Willow again.”
Ash didn’t hesitate to leave me. He couldn’t, not with the Vessel’s compulsion controlling him. He spun on his heel, racing forward across the parking lot. He rushed into his father’s embrace, the other man watching us briefly before he turned and led Ash into the vehicle.
I collapsed to my knees on the concrete, an ugly sob tearing out of my throat. I hung my head forward as I listened to the sound of the bus, of the tires rolling across pavement as it left the parking lot.
As the last sight of my brother’s face haunted me.
The side of a bent finger hooked beneath my chin, raising my gaze until I looked up into the stare of Thorne. “Why?” I asked, even though I was grateful for what he’d done. I couldn’t understand it, couldn’t make it make sense.