Of course, with the way she’d been forced to live her life thus far, she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt her age.
“Come on,” Roland whispered once they were far enough inside the cave that she couldn’t hear their pursuers anymore. That could be a good thing—or a very, very bad one. “I sense a pond or a decent body of water within the cave. Don’t you?”
She didn’t sense anything, but that was because she couldn’t see past the fear. And that was deadly. She was smarter than this—she’d had to be in order to survive this long.
Leah took a deep breath and her eyes widened as the scent of pure water touched her tongue. Her body almost shivered in pure delight. While most witches didn’t need their actual element around them to be able to practice, being cut off from it for so long made it almost impossible to spell or protect oneself. As a water witch, she needed water to feel whole. Earth witches didn’t like to be parted from nature for too long, and fire witches liked warmth. Though, with fire witches, their element was connected to their emotions a little more tightly, and they used their powers differently. Air witches had it a little easier when it came to finding their element, but they had their own issues when it came to their powers. And spirit witches…well, she wasn’t sure what they needed. And she honestly didn’t want to know. Most of them scared her.
Usually, Leah only needed to drink a glass of water a day to be fine spell-wise, and since most people drank more than that, it wasn’t a problem.
However, she and Roland had been running for days from those who wanted to hurt them, and it had been an oddly dry week in the Pacific Northwest. They’d lost their packs with their water bottles when one of the humans on their tail had gotten far too close, and it hadn’t rained more than that morning’s sprinkle in days.
Her body was starving for food, water, rest, and care.
They crawled through the narrow tunnel toward the scent of water and she almost fell to her chest at the sight of a clear pool surrounded by crystals and different rock formations. Stalactites and stalagmites jetted from the rock, and she wanted to weep at its beauty.
“Sweet goddess, it’s glorious,” Roland whispered then smiled over his shoulder at her.
It went straight to her heart. It wasn’t his old smile—the one that told her that everything would be okay. No, this one held the pain and strain of running for so long. First from those who should have opened their arms to them, then from those who would see them dead rather than find out who they truly were.
The humans who wanted her people dead.
Only, she couldn’t fight them to protect herself because not all humans knew witches were real. Instead, they thought witches were from movies or were a weird cult that spent the nights dancing naked in the moonlight and drawing pentagrams in dirt.
She rarely danced in the moonlight.
And she’d never done it naked.
But those who followed them with guns and traps knew Roland and Leah were witches. And that scared her. The wolves were the ones out of hiding—not her people. The Packs had been forced into the open, and now their very lives and way of life were on the line. Leah had never wanted that for the witches—even if the covens had never wanted her family to be part of their inner circles.
Her mind and her heart hurt from thinking about that so she pushed it aside for the moment and crawled the last few feet to the side of the pool. As soon as her hand touched the top of the water, her whole body shuddered in bliss. The pores of her skin opened, beckoning the sweet glory of her powers. She’d never been this dry before in her life, and she knew her brother hadn’t been either.
It had been dangerous for both of them.
With her senses alert in case the humans found them within the cave, she brought her cupped hand to her lips and drank. Her parched tongue lapped it up and she swallowed as much as she could without choking. It tasted of the heavens and the goddess’s blessings. She drank until she couldn’t fit any more in her stomach then finally wiped her face, her hands still shaking and her heart beating too fast. But she could breathe again.
That had to count for something.
“You’re bleeding, little sister,” Roland said, bringing her out of her thoughts.
She blinked up at him; aware he’d also washed the grime off his face. “I know,” she whispered, her voice still a bit hoarse from lack of use.
“Do you want me to heal you, or do you want to do it yourself?”
She shook her head and held out a hand. He gripped it firmly and her soul settled. They were twins, witches, and best friends. She didn’t know what she’d do without him.
“I can heal myself. Check yourself for wounds and heal, as well.” She pressed her lips together and searched around the small cave that was their refuge for the time being. “We can’t stay here for too much longer.”