“I’m a witch, Nailea.”
As I stood in front of the open doorway, I couldn’t tell whether it would be a good idea to turn around and confront her about hiding it from me, or if it would be much better to race out of the door and out of that house.
I didn’t know which ones werewolves tended to hate more – vampires or witches – but one thing I did know was that back in the pack I had run away from, being called a witch was one of the most horrible insults you could get, and it was a serious allegation if someone was accused of being a witch; one that was almost unforgivable.
I heard the scraping sound of Estrella’s chair as she stood up, which made me turn around sharply and for my head to explode with pain.
“Don’t come close to me,” I warned her. Surprisingly, she stopped walking and put
