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Her wide-eyed gaze searched mine, and when understanding fell on her, she took a stuttering step back. Still not free from the compulsion, I wasn’t able to move forward to unbind her. I was forced to watch her, helpless before her enemies.

“Phoebe, no…” I could barely speak, barely move. I used every ounce of power within me to utter those words.

I reached out for her, and my heart almost tore from my chest as her eyes filled with tears. Betrayal was spreading through her gaze like a malignant fog, and I watched something fragile and precious in her break. I knew she would never forgive this.

“You said I could trust you,” she spat, staggering back again, moving farther from me and closer to the witches. Every growing inch separating us sent a spear of agony through my body. I was losing her.

“You can…” I began, conscious of our audience, and as I watched, her eyes blazed with hatred. She thrust her hands up, emphasizing the bindings controlling her powers. I winced.

She whirled on the witches, facing away from me. “You can take me, so long as he does not follow,” she ordered, refusing to look back.

The compulsion holding me in place released the second she agreed, the bounty fulfilled. I lunged forward to grab her, but one witch’s hand flew up to place a shield between us. Everything in me strained to get to her. I pounded against the barrier, feeling it crack beneath my fists. Two more witches threw their hands up, reinforcing it, keeping me from her. She held her head high as tears fell silently down her face, breaking me. No! I couldn’t lose her!

“Just let me explain!” I pounded harder on the shield, but she wasn’t listening.

“Take me from here, leave him behind. You can have my head so long as he is not there to witness it,” she declared, still a queen despite her bindings.

“No!” I roared, even as four witches created a rift. It took four of them to do what Phoebe could do as an afterthought. No wonder they feared her so. I tore at the magic, more savage than ever. She was mine!There were cracks in the shield, but not enough to break. Instead, I was forced to watch,powerless.

She shot me one last look before stepping through, and it tore at me. I did this to her. She looked utterly defeated and resigned. The rift closed behind her, the witches disappearing from sight.

She would never forgive this, and how could I blame her? I’d lost her. I fell to my knees in defeat. My worst nightmare had come true before my eyes, and I had no one to blame but myself.

XXXV

The Realm of Mortals.

The Witches Cells,

Salem, Massachusetts.

I take a step back, my heel hitting another body on the ground behind me. I look down at the remnants of another witch, horror seeping in, twined with gut-wrenching realization. I remember the feeling of being torn in two. My volatile, unpredictable power, the part of me I usually keep in brutal check, was unleashed.

I did this. I killed them. Aunt Caroline… The threat was never from outside the Council Chambers but within.

STUPID TEARS SLID DOWN MY FACE ASthey led me to the dungeon. The cells held our most deranged enemies, and I was now among their number. None of the other witches spoke as they locked me in, which I was strangely grateful for. I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing silently down my cheeks, but I would die before I broke down completely in front of them.

Once I was finally alone, I fell to my knees. I had trusted a man, and he had betrayed me to the Council again! Would I never learn?

Rule No. 1….

When those cuffs had first come down on my wrists, I hadn’t understood. It had been so outside the realm of possibility that Lucien would betray me. I just stood there thinking he would never do that to me. He couldn’t. I was his mate. I was his. But he’d bound my powers while enemies surrounded us. He sent me to my death. This was so much worse than Malcolm’s betrayal. Malcolm was a young girl’s fantasy. I was truly in love with Lucien. I guess I didn’t learn my lesson after the first betrayal, so Fate sent me a second.The vengeful bitch.My stomach clenched with agony, and I wished I could rip my heart from my chest, anything to stop the feeling of it breaking.

“Looks like the vampire and lycan kings are as good as they say,” came a familiar, hated voice. Erik was involved, too? Another betrayal I could add to the fucking list.

I dashed away my tears and stood as Alfonso Damian approached. Unofficial head of the Witches Council, he was one of the few who had survived my trial and the one who’d spear-headed my sentence.Prick.He was just as slimy as I remembered, his black hair greased back from his forehead, his beady little black eyes making my skin crawl as he looked at me appraisingly.

“What do you want, Damian?” I snapped, hoping he didn’t notice the tears drying on my face. I hated appearing weak in front of him.

His smile reminded me of a shark, more predatory than when Lucien smiled with his fangs. I hid my flinch, even thinking his name sent a bolt of fresh pain through me.

“You always were a high and mighty bitch,” he snarled. “Good to see you behind bars on your way to your execution, as your kind deserves.”

“My kind? Are you not my kind?” I sneered back. I knew I wasn’t exactly the Council’s favorite, but I was still a witch.

Had something infested the Council to turn them against me? Was that why they dogged me so determinedly? Was there an interloper in their midst turning them against me?

“I am not of your line,” he spat.