Page 1 of The Wolf and the Chimera (The Witch and the Cowboy #3)

Elle

Magic eclipsed everything.

As my paws hit the concrete floor, the magic roared in my ears and pounded in my blood. Only moments ago, I had been trapped by the High Witch and seconds away from being put to eternal sleep.

Now, I was more awake than ever.

You’re welcome, a woman purred.

I jolted in fear, but another wave of power rolled through me. The fear was forgotten as quickly as it had come. The warmth of a thousand suns surged in my veins. It was so potent, I could rip the world apart with it.

Flashes of darkness and proprietary touches and such suffocating solitude my bones ached with it flashed through me, and the idea of such destruction held appeal.

Why had anyone ever dared to keep me from my power? Why had I let them?

Not your power, pet, the woman in my thoughts said, but it is wondrous, isn’t it?

As if it would silence the voice, I shook my head. My vision blurred. Traveling through the ripple that connected the High Witch’s court to our world left me dizzy.

When I could see clearly, I took in the cramped space I stood in.

Weapons lined the walls, and a sparring mat occupied the center of the space.

Across the room, a narrow staircase stretched out of view.

My pulse leaped at the sight of an escape, but I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a wide mirror on the far wall.

A red-eyed monster stared back at me.

My head was that of a golden-maned lion, and my shoulders rippled with muscle. I flexed my paws and admired the flesh-shredding claws. Along my back, my fur transformed from gold to silver, and mighty hooves had replaced my feet. Behind me, a green-scaled tail slithered against the floor.

I shifted my weight, and pain stung between my shoulder blades.

With a start, I realized what I had mistaken as shadows were actually black, leathery wings.

They sagged to the floor, but when I tried to raise them, pain rippled down my back, and the wings merely twitched. I lacked the muscle to control them.

I bared my long, white teeth at the creature staring back at me.

Really? the woman demanded. You’re frightened of your own reflection?

That is not my reflection, I argued, though I couldn’t remember what my actual reflection looked like.

This body was mine/not mine, as were the instincts wreaking havoc on my mind.

Maim. Kill. Escape.

The woman’s annoyance was palpable. Have you even noticed where you are?

I studied the armory and noted the utter lack of windows and the damp scent of earth. This room was underground.

Wretched memories rushed through my magic-addled mind again, though this time, names and specifics came with them.

When I had agreed to go with High Witch Cordelia and her Handmaidens in exchange for mercy upon Cady, Freya, Walker, Arion, and Ryder, Cordelia’s court had used magic to put me to sleep. It had been a sickening prelude to what eternal Entombment would be .

Though I hadn’t moved a muscle, I had screamed and raged and tried to free myself from the suffocating stillness.

My thoughts had been a sluggish mess of fear,but some part of me had held onto consciousness. Around me, voices had boomed, footsteps had pounded, and witches had laughed, but I hadn’t been able to move. In the dark, deepest levels of High Witch Cordelia’s court, I’d been trapped.

I never wanted to be underground again.

Something crashed on top of me. Magic and mind-numbing fear consumed my thoughts. The memory slipped away, and I was yanked into the present. Instinctively, I rolled.

An amber-eyed black wolf scrambled and righted himself in front of me. I crouched before him and bared my teeth. As I stared at his massive form, I ran my tongue over my long canines to remind myself I wasn’t defenseless.

Never again, I thought. The woman in my head murmured her agreement, but I ignored her. She was a problem for later. Now, I would handle the wolf.

He cocked his head at me and sat on his haunches.

Before I could take advantage of his foolish lapse in judgment, a black horse leaped in front of us.

Magic that wasn’t my own rattled my bones, and I turned back.

Through the open closet door, colors and light and shadows swirled.

Like a moth to a flame, I took a step toward the potent magic, but the closet door slammed shut.

Now is not the time to explore the ripple, the woman chided, and that is not a horse.

Shush, I told her, though she was right. His golden eyes studied the world with human-like intelligence.

The creature was bloodied, and magic hummed in the air with each of his breaths.

The non-horse’s riders—a young girl in filthy jeans and an adult man wearing a brown cowboy hat—were magic-wielders as well.

Though their magic emitted a much weaker buzz, it lurked in their unnaturally bright eyes.

As the brown-haired man slid off the horse, he sank to his knees and stared at his empty hands .

Now, the woman instructed. Leave now while they’re distracted.

I wanted to. Every fiber of my being loathed how the walls pressed in on me, and the rotten scent of dirt clogged my nostrils, but I couldn’t bring myself to walk away. As horror etched into the man’s features, a memory flashed.

It was the man’s face, but he’d been smiling kindly and patiently, not under the harsh lighting of the basement, but in the sunshine. I blinked, and the man was stricken once more.

The horse that wasn’t a horse whinnied, but it wasn’t a whimsical or boastful sound. Empathy cut through the haze of magic and panic that overwhelmed me.

Recognition danced on the edges of my thoughts. I knew the blue-eyed man and his sister—yes, that was his sister. As she joined her brother, tears poured down her pale face.

“Freya?” she whispered. “Freya’s gone?”

Red hair and a freckled face and sadness too heavy for someone her age—

The woman interrupted my thoughts. Leave before they trap you again.

My magic flared like a blaring alarm, and this time, I listened.

I raced for the only exit—the staircase, but as I lunged up the steps, my leathery wings caught on the stone walls.

Pain lanced down them and deep into my shoulders.

I gasped. Panic sped my heart, and I tried again.

The stone walls chipped, but I still couldn’t fit.

You must shift forms, you fool, the woman ordered.

Shift? I thought. I can shift?

A memory cracked through the fog of magic.

In the memory, I stared at my reflection—my real one—in the mirror of a cramped bathroom.

I wasn’t a beast. I was a woman with full lips that were chapped from days on the sea, dark hair coiled into delicate box braids, and a light glistening of sweat on my furrowed brow—but a man spoke, and the memory evaporated.

“Elle. ”

His deep, rough voice shook me. Amber eyes flashed in my mind, and I whirled. A man stood in place of the wolf. As I took in his dark, tousled hair and tan skin, one thought eclipsed everything, even the roaring magic.

Mine.

The woman cursed. He’s nothing to us—you need to shift into your human form, blind him, and get out of here—

“Elle,” he repeated. “I’m sorry for putting you in this situation, but you need to come back. Come back, okay?” His voice broke.

This man—Ryder—he cared for me. I could feel it in my bones. He was something to me, and I was something to him, so why did I feel this urgency to run?

Because he wants to use you, the woman explained. He wants you for your power, just like all the others. You need to—

I thought it wasn’t my power? I shot back.

It won’t be anyone’s power if you’re entombed, she snapped.

He won’t entomb me, I argued. He saved me.

And I hated him for it.

In that moment, I was yanked into the past. I was back on the ship watching my parents die trying to save me.

I had wanted nothing more than for my so-called earth-shattering magic to eviscerate my enemies, but like so many other times, I had been helpless.

I hadn’t been able to fight off the wolves who’d come to fetch me for their Sovereign.

I hadn’t been able to stop Ryder from making a silent deal with my mother to leave my parents to die to save me.

Don’t you see? the woman asked. He doesn’t care about you. He only cares about his wolfish claim on you.

Right, I thought, because he thinks I’m his mate.

I was educated enough on werewolves to know what the word meant. If he was right, I held the other half of Ryder’s soul, and he carried the other half of mine. We were destined to be together.

Destiny held the reins on my life more than I did .

Don’t let it, the woman urged. Shift and leave him.

“I’ll make it right,” Ryder promised. “I’ll make everything right, but you have to fight the sorceress. You have to stop her.”

The sorceress, I realized. That’s who’s in my head.

Memories flashed by faster than I could grasp them.

Back in Cordelia’s throne room, power like nothing I had ever experienced had sprung to life.

My bones had snapped, and my flesh had transformed.

Battle and bloodshed had overwhelmed the opulent, golden and white hall.

All that magic had rushed into my body because of a single name—the name of the sorceress currently in my mind.

Medea.

The sorceress the entire world feared had infiltrated my mind.

Don’t flatter me, she crooned. Her voice sharpened. It’s time to leave.

“Elle,” Ryder whispered. Fear brightened his eyes. “Elle, please come back.”

I opened my mouth to tell him I wanted to, but I only chuffed. Back in the High Witch’s throne room, Medea had been the one to transform me into this monster.

I had no idea how to turn back.

Don’t worry, pet, Medea assured me. I’ll get us back into that pretty, little human form.

Before I could respond, agony dropped me to my knees.

As magic heated my blood, my bones popped, and my skin shrank.

Every shift of organs, flesh, and blood ached down to my very soul.

As my magic—Medea’s magic—bellowed in my ears and in my veins, my eyes burned.

Throughout all of it, I couldn’t even scream. I couldn’t gasp or whimper.

I had never felt such power, nor had I ever felt more powerless.

When my vision returned, I was on my knees on the cold, concrete floor, naked. I tried to shield myself, but my limbs were not my own. When Ryder walked closer, Medea’s satisfaction was palpable.

Don’t—

Medea ignored me.

As she raised my head, light blared from my burning, stinging eyes.

Ryder hissed and shielded his face. In my mind, I screamed and raged, but physically, I did nothing.

As Medea turned my body toward the stairs, I was certain I had escaped one tomb only to fall into another.

I would be at her mercy until she decided otherwise.

Five witches lined the narrow, dimly lit stairs.

They wore plum, velvet cloaks instead of the royal blue of the High Witch’s court. Though their skin was wrinkled, and their bodies were frail, magic thrummed from them in a steady pulse. Under their breath, they murmured a spell that sent a shiver down my spine.

Medea and I gasped in shock.

She cursed. Their spell—I didn’t sense it past the rush of power. I’ve been caged too long—

Medea and I had been too swept up in our own magic to hear the spell that now hummed against the walls of the staircase.

As the witch closest to me, with burgundy lips and haunting gray eyes, pointed a single, knobby-boned finger in my direction, relief swelled in my chest. With every word of their incantation, the magic roaring in my blood quieted more and more.

These witches had come to stop the sorceress, and judging by the steely determination in their eyes, they would succeed.

As everything went dark, Medea screamed.