Witch And The Wolf

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Bailey

Leaving the basement, I hurried back to my home. I knew the mate bond would have been triggered and it wouldn’t be long until Damien sent his little lackey Archie to fetch me. I stripped off my clothing and began filling the tub with hot water. I stood in front of the mirror and looked over my body. I worked so hard for this. Flawless skin, perfect breasts, long legs, white teeth. Men trip over themselves for me.

Except the one man I want.

I turn and slip into the bath, soaking in the heat. I close my eyes and reminisce.

The day I first saw Damien, he had just stepped out of the tree line in his wolf form. After a moment, he changed to his human form. I watch him lay out in the sun, my eyes greedily taking in his naked form. His strong frame drawing my eyes down his chest to his waist, imagining myself straddling those hips, riding him until I couldn’t move. I craved his body long before I ever met him. I stayed hidden and watched as he lounged in the afternoon sun. Imagining his body entwined with mine.

The sound of a car pulling up broke me out of my reverie and I stood up from the tub. I heard the door open with a bang and Archie called my name. I ignored him and wrapped myself in a towel. I could hear him coming up the stairs.

“Bailey!” He shouted down the hall. I strode to the door and opened it, hand on my hip.

“Good evening handsome” I purr, flashing my brightest smile.

“He wants to see you.” He said, his voice emotionless.

“It’s the middle of the night” I respond.

He gives me an emotionless look. I roll my eyes and turn back into my room. “I need to get dressed” I say, dropping my towel as I saunter back into the bathroom. I turn to look at him, but if he noticed my naked body, his face didn’t show it.

I took my time, applying makeup, and fixing my hair. I slipped into a low-cut red dress, my pumps adding inches to my height.

I walked out and Archie was still standing in the door. Ever the patient little soldier. No wonder he was Damien’s beta. He never caused problems. Never wavered.

“Alright, let’s go” I walk past him and head down the stairs.

Wordlessly Archie follows, opening the door to the car as we walk out into the night air.

“What is this about?” I feign innocence, imaging that witch locked up in the basement. He doesn’t respond as he puts the car into gear and heads towards the pack house.

Amelia

Days passed and Bailey had not returned. The witches who held me were getting antsy. Violet eyes had been forcing a vile concoction down my throat daily. When I tried to fight, she took the chance to practice her magic on me. My body covered in cuts from where she would take blood to use in her spells. My magic had long gone quiet, the iron shackles binding them. The potion she gave me made me feel as though I was out of my own body. I had no appetite and sleep came in bursts.

Bailey had not returned in days and the witches were starting to get anxious. I had tried to think of a way to get out, even without my magic, but the potions and spells the were using on me kept me groggy and out of sorts.

The door banged open and Tansy, the witch with the violet eyes, stormed in.

“When are you going to let me go?”

“When Bailey comes for you.”

“It’s been days. She is not coming back” I responded.

Anger flashed in her eyes, and Tansy crossed the room to me, slapping my face. I felt my lip split open, a trickle of blood leaving a trail down my chin. A vindictive smile spread across her face as she stood up then slapped me again, knocking the chair over. I groaned as my aching body, still tied to the chair, hit the floor.

“Stupid b***h” She muttered as she pulled my chair back upright. Turning her back to me, she went to her table in the corner, and began lighting the candles. Adding ingredients to her small cauldron, she murmured an enchantment over them. Finishing her spell, she spooned the potion into a cup, and carried it over to me. Forcing my head back, she poured the liquid into my throat. The burning liquid slid down into my stomach and I fought the urge to throw up. The first time she did this, I threw it all up, and she beat me until I passed out. Wanting to avoid her punishment, I closed my eyes and took deep breaths, calming myself. As the nausea fades, I open my eyes and meet her gaze. Knowing she was waiting for me to throw it up, I smile innocently.

“Shall I stick out my tongue for you?” I ask snidely. Her answer was another slap to the face, widening the cut on my lip. She stepped back to her table and picked up a glass bottle, stepping over and collecting the blood from my lip. She put a cork into the bottle and set it on the table. She opened her spell book and began searching for something when a phone rang upstairs. She sighed and set the book down, shooting me a murderous look, as she retreated up the steps to answer. I sat in the dark basement alone and tried to shift in my chair to get more comfortable.

Then I noticed that the ropes were slightly looser than before, a piece of the chair cracked.

I smiled to myself.

It was time to get myself out.