Page 156 of How to Flirt with a Witch

While she, Sebastian, and Millie keep Fiona at the door, I spin around and race for the row of cages, my footsteps pounding on the stone floor and echoing through the room. The magic in the air is thick and heavy, pressing down on me like a weighted blanket.

I reach the first cage, my hands shaking as I grasp the bars. The iron is cold beneath my fingers. With a grunt, I raise my hand and smash the gauntlet against the lock, the impact reverberating up my arm.

The lock cracks like breaking porcelain, crumbling into pieces.

Sucking in a breath to steel myself for whatever is about to happen, I yank the door open.

I don’t know what I expected—that the magic inside would stretch like a dog waking from a nap, or that it would drift into freedom like a gust of wind? Instead, in a blink, I’m face-to-face with an enormous cat—thick, gray fur dotted with black rosettes, and fangs the size of my hand. A snow leopard. Its purple eyes glint hungrily, and I instinctively step back.

With a snarl, it bounds past me, its powerful muscles taking it toward the others.

“No!” Fiona screeches, and it’s not just anger in her voice, but fear. She really doesn’t understand that this is the only way.

She aims her palms at the creature, but before she can do anything to stop it, it leaps into the air and shifts into a crow, letting out a loud “caw!” as it rockets by her head.

My heart slams into my ribs. One down… How many to go?

Suddenly, a blast rocks the room, sending dust and debris raining down on me. I cough and cover my mouth.

Yells erupt in the doorway.

“What’s going on?”

“The magic’s escaping! Stop it!”

More people have caught up.

“It’ssupposedto be escaping!” Natalie shouts. “Hold back the Madsens!”

Sophia shrieks, her voice rising above all else. “No!”

“What the fuck?” Hayley cries. “What’s wrong with you?”

“They’re traitors!” Fiona yells.

A frenzy of accusations rises.

Great, now we have a civil war happening among the witches too.

This is going to weaken our defenses even further. I’m out of time.

I turn to the next cage, frantic. I smash the lock and throw the door wide. A bay stallion pushes past me and gallops for freedom, its hooves pounding the stone, its dark mane and tail streaming.

Someone screams. Shouts and crashes escalate, but I can’t afford to stall. I have to keep going, to free every chimera before the Madsens plow through our feeble defenses.

I race to the next cage, and the next, and the next. There must be dozens, and every lock takes several seconds to break. Sweat trickles down my temples and back, my lungs aching as I wheeze in each breath. My hand throbs, the muscles in my arms screaming, my bones tender beneath the gauntlet. But with each instance of bio magic I set free, the air pulses with it, fueling me with enough energy to push on.

I smash the next lock, but before I can open the door, Millie appears beside me, making me gasp.

Her face is pale, beads of sweat glistening on her forehead. “Let me take this one,” she whispers.

I hesitate, searching her desperate expression. I want to let her, but I’m afraid of what this means. If we do this, we aren’t just letting bio magic go feral again—we’re allowing someone to embody it. This is exactly what we didn’t want. This is what Fiona’s petrified of.

“C-can you use it to—force the Madsens back?” I ask, my words coming in short, sharp gasps. “Capture them or something?”

If this would help us stop the attack, it would be easier to defend what I’m about to do. Every second the fight continues, someone is in danger of being hurt or killed. Beyond Millie, the clashing grows louder than ever, and the torches on the wall thrash as they threaten to extinguish.

But Millie shakes her head. “Magic takes weeks to figure out. I won’t know how to use it right away.”