The Hand That Beats You

Chapter 10

When I tell you guys that I rushed so I could publish this before 1k so I could do a double update...

Give me a little fun fact about yourself or something in general :)

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• Azrael •

"Your mate is feisty."

I snap my head up towards Celeste as she inserts the tube into my veins. "What?"

The witch smiles as though she won the lottery. She pushes the small tube further in my flesh and begins to hum as blood drips through it. "I met him three days ago."

"How? Wolves are not allowed outside pack borders." Realization strikes me. "You went inside the pack?"

She smiles and kisses my cheek. "Your pack is quaint for being known to be aggressive."

I wipe away the smell of her on my face. A million different questions burst in my mind like fireworks. "Why on earth would you go in the pack? What reason would you have? And he would smell you, how did you—"

"Relax, I didn't really talk to him. Not much at least. And I snatched his memories after so it doesn't count. He's snappy, I'll give you that. Wasn't afraid to call me out on my bullshit."

I sigh and rub at my eyes. Even though I had rested better, I still dragged around with me remnants of the night I spent locked in Celeste's metal box on Saturday. Today was Wednesday and I still felt drained after all the magic she had forced into my body. "Why did you speak to him?"

"I dunno. But it was fun bothering him."

Irritation scuttles along my skin. "Of course you went to bother him."

She laughs. As the tube slides out of my skin, a sting shocks through my arm, and I wince. "Yep. He's a pretty one, I have to admit. And those eyes." She sighs dreamily, drawing my irritation higher. "If he wasn't so young I might've tried to—"

"Do not," I snarl, "finish that statement."

She smiles. It vanishes suddenly as a loud bang sounds from her familiar. A sharp roar of pain screams through the room. The hairs on my arms raise.

That sound was far too human.

Celeste snarls. "This motherfucking fucker—"

Celeste disappears from the room, leaving me sitting on a chair. I bristle as the sound of Chrysus' sound of pain echoes in my mind. The chair creaks as I stand and shake my arm slightly. Dark shelves tower over me on either side of the room, filled with grimoires and potions and plants and crystals. Diamonds, emeralds, rubies, and more glitter along the shelves, decorating them and creating soft fragments of color. For a lux witch, she preferred to keep rooms extremely dark.

Chills trickle along my spine like spiders. I turn cautiously.

That door had not been there before.

I glance backwards, where Celeste had been standing not moments before.

The door contains rushed markings, words carved into the wood. The edges are not sharp and cornered, rather round, and small enough that I would be required to hunch forward to fit in. It was exactly Celeste's height. As I inspect the markings, I realize they are in Latin. All my learning rushes back to me in a tidal wave. I translate mentally as I read.

This door is opened at the price of blood. M—

"What are you doing?"

I lurch backwards and turn to face Celeste. She stares, her eyes guarded as I step away from the door. "What is this? Why do you have a door that must be unlocked by blood?"