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The witch’s gaze narrowed on Anise. “He killed my troll.”

Anise tried not to let her panic show on her face. She had also killed a troll, and no matter what Caraway had done to get into this place, she didn’t want him to die for it. And she would never regret saving that baby’s life.

“What are you going to do with Caraway?” she asked.

“Well, now. That depends on you.”

Anise took a step back. “What do you mean?”

“Well, my dear. How are you planning to pay for the ability to shift?”

“I have coin. Lots of it. That’s how I plan to pay.”

The witch laughed. It was a high-pitched melodious tinkle. “What makes you think I need coin?”

“Then what do you want?”

“Two hundred years,” she stated and then gestured to the poor souls trapped in the ice. “After two hundred years, you pay me with a soul.”

Anise bit her lip. “But I get the power of a shifter for two hundred years?”

She could live as one of the wolves in Crescent Hollow for two centuries before she needed to lose her soul. And in that time, she could shift into a wolf, run through the forest, and feel the joy and freedom other shifters always waxed poetic about when they’d come into the tavern. For two centuries, she would hold mana within her body and cast spells without needing to resort to potions or elixirs. Wasn’t that all she’d wanted? To belong?

“You don’t need to change. You’re perfect the way you are.”

Part of her wanted to believe Caraway’s words, and part of her wanted to not need to. She hated that she yearned for his approval, the same as everyone else’s. She hated that she wanted to fit in, but the constant anxiety was a noose over her head. She’d never be rid of it if she didn’t try this.

The witch squinted at her. “I can see you have doubts, and I know it’s because of the male who followed you. Let me give you a piece of free advice.” She leaned forward in her throne until her orange top hat tilted on her head. If it weren’t for her rabbit ears poking through cutout holes, the hat may have fallen right off. “Males, of any species, are not to be trusted. They take what they want, but they’ll never give you what you need. It’s in their nature. They're the hunters, not the nurturers. The sooner you come to terms with that, the better.”

That’s when Anise realized every frozen body in the ice was male.

The witch stood and stepped down the dais. With wistful eyes, she trailed her fingers along the icy walls of her macabre museum.

“I wasn’t always like this.” She gestured to her ears. “I used to shift into a rabbit. And like you, I came looking for a way to become more than less. But then I found him.” She stopped at a particular shadowed figure trapped in the ice. A tall fae, handsome and ominous in his expression, even as he was petrified. “He seduced me, and he stole my mana. He harvested it for his own use. But you see, he made a mistake. He believed that those lesser fae were beneath him.” She snarled at the shadow. “He should have killed me when he had the chance.”

“Caraway’s stolen nothing from me,” Anise said. Her experience wasn’t the same as this female’s.

The witch’s eyes snapped toward Anise. “All males are the same.”

Anise shook her head. Perhaps the witch’s story was meant to convince her to give up on Caraway, but it only made her realize he wasn’t Anise’s enemy. He’d never believed she was beneath him. No, she loved him. She wouldn’t involve him in this.

“I just want the ability to shift.”

The witch held out her hand. “So we have a deal?”

Anise paused, but two hundred years of fulfillment was a long time. She could be happy.

She nodded and shook the witch’s hand. “Yes, we have a deal.”

Thunder cracked through the hall. The walls shook. Tiny icicles showered from the ceiling. Anise thought, perhaps, that it was because of the bargain they’d just struck, but the witch’s facial expression was as surprised as Anise’s.

They disengaged and Anise repeated. “You give me the ability to shift into a wolf for two hundred years, and I give you my soul after that.”

“Oh, little wolf. It’s too late to add specifics.” The witch’s peach lips curved into a wicked grin. “Now, I didn’t saywhosesoul was payment.”

Then she laughed a big cackling sound that shriveled Anise’s resolve. What could she mean? Not Anise’s soul? Then whose—

Caraway burst into the room, his face contorted in fury, his fist around his long broadsword. Long legs strode into the center of the hall.