Page 24 of The Wolf and the Chimera (The Witch and the Cowboy #3)

Ryder

Though I had met plenty of powerful witches, Circe was something else.

Her magic radiated like a living beast, but it was the ease with which she wielded such power that frightened me.

The High Witch’s crazed eyes and wild temperament had given away the toll her magic took on her, but Circe was as comfortable in her power as she was in her tan skin.

“So, tell us,” Melanie said, “how do we get rid of this sorceress?”

“That’s a difficult question to answer,” Circe said, “considering no one knows exactly what Medea wants.”

“She wants to annihilate all warlocks,” Elle replied. “She already cursed them out of existence once. After Freya transformed Walker from hunter to magic-wielder, she’s eager to wipe the entire species out of existence for good.”

“But, why?” Circe asked. I didn’t trust the cunning glint in her eyes. “Why does she loathe them so terribly? And what else? Is that all she’s fighting to come back for?”

“Warlocks?” Kieran repeated.

Right, I realized, another thing I kept from my brother.

Bo and Melanie wore matching confused expressions, and Circe gritted her teeth with annoyance.

“Long ago,” Imogen explained, “witches and warlocks—male counterparts to witches—possessed magic. When the sorceress’s Anchor—her magic-bound mate—betrayed her, she cursed all warlocks to become human, but the spell was flawed.

Instead, the former warlocks became witch-hunters—humans with supernatural fighting senses and the urge to destroy magical beings.

The witches forsake the sorceress for it, and High Witch Cordelia rose to power. ”

“But,” Lee added, “Medea was too strong to be completely destroyed. For centuries, chimeras—beings like Elle, with magnificent power—have been born to be her vessels.”

“The High Witch has killed them all before they could come into maturity,” Elle said, “but she’s tired of hunting them down. She wanted to entomb me forever to ensure that the sorceress never rises again.”

“And she needs an Anchor bond to do it,” I explained. Shame and sorrow churned my stomach, “which is why Freya is currently in her custody.”

Kieran cursed. “My father told me the High Witch was after Elle for her unique power, but I never knew…I never knew how badly she wanted her or why.”

“And Freya,” Melanie said, “you two didn't just..." Her gaze shifted to Elle and back to me, "date. You grew up together, right?”

I nodded.

“Even now,” Circe said, “the Redfern witch’s Anchor fights to get her back.”

Through my worry for Freya, I noted the interest in Circe’s voice as she talked about my friend. Part of me hoped the ancient witch never met Freya—the havoc they could wreak together would be unmatched.

“Is she okay?” I asked.

Circe’s face was unreadable. “She lives.”

“What about you two?” Bo asked and gestured toward Elle’s parents. He cleared his throat. “What, um, are you?”

I didn’t blame him for asking. The pair cast off an odd scent that paired the musk of humans with a rich blend of magic.

“Humans imbued with magic,” Lee replied. “We call ourselves Guardians.”

“At the High Witch’s court,” I argued, “beings like you called themselves the Garrison.”

Imogen sneered. “The Garrison are nothing more than Cordelia’s lackeys. Guardians are created to raise and protect chimeras.”

“But, how?” Melanie asked. “Humans aren’t supposed to be able to even sense magic, much less wield it.”

“That’s what High Witch Cordelia wants you to think,” Lee countered, “but certain humans have the capacity to be changed into Guardians and Garrison alike.”

“Cordelia holds the knowledge of how to create such beings close to her chest,” Circe added, “and those who meet her Garrison do not usually live to tell about it.”

“You have seen them and survived,” Imogen said, “and so did Sybil Redfern. She learned about them from the High Witch and used the knowledge to transform us.”

“Why?” Elle asked.

Imogen smiled softly. “To care for and protect you.”

I ran a thumb over Elle’s hand, which squeezed mine in return.

She hated that everyone in her life who loved her was duty-bound to protect her.

My mate couldn’t see that she was more than worthy of that protection—that anyone who really knew her wanted to save her, not because of her power, but because of her kind soul.

“We wanted a baby so badly,” Imogen whispered. “Sybil helped our dream come true.”

Tears filled Elle’s eyes, and I continued to stroke her hand in comfort, but a realization snagged my thoughts.

If Sybil Redfern had known how to imbue a human with magic, why had she condemned Josephine—her dearest friend and Freya’s goddessmother—for trying to do the same?

“But we failed our mission,” Lee said. “We foolishly handed over our daughter to a wolf, and she ended up in the High Witch’s clutches within a handful of days.”

His words lurched me back into the present, and I flinched. Like a wolf herself, Elle snarled.

“ I got myself captured,” Elle countered, “and I would do it again. If you really can see what happens in our world while we’re gone, then you know why I gave myself up.”

“Your so-called mate should’ve stopped you,” Lee spat.

My wolf raged inside me, and the hair on the back of my neck rose. Only my grip on Elle’s hand kept my claws from extending.

I could bear his criticism, but my wolf wouldn’t tolerate our bond being questioned.

Unclaimed, unclaimed, unclaimed…

Neither would I.

“ Enough,” Circe declared. “Already, we have wasted too much time bickering and explaining. It’s time to see if my plan has a shot at working.”

“Plan?” Kieran said. “What plan?”

“If Elle passes this test,” Circe said, “you’ll learn of it.”

Test?

I crouched in front of my mate, but my efforts to protect her were in vain. With a snap of Circe’s fingers, Elle disappeared. Before I knew what I was doing, I shifted into wolf form and launched myself at the ancient witch. She stopped me midair with a flick of her wrist.

In my peripheral, Kieran, Bo, and Melanie stood, but Circe froze them in place too. Her magic filled the room like cloying fog.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Lee demanded.

Circe smiled. “Ask your wife.”

As Lee turned on her with a horrified expression, Imogen met his gaze. Her blue eyes were steely.

“She can do this,” Imogen promised. Her gaze flickered to mine and back to her husband. “We just have to give her a chance.”

“Enough chatter,” Circe said. “We’re going to miss the show.”

She snapped her fingers, and time and space warped. Light flashed, and my stomach dropped, but we landed in another domed room. I tried to move, but I remained unable to break Circe’s will, frozen in place before a giant, round window.

Through its shimmering depths was Elle.

She stood on the sandy floor of an empty coliseum. As she took in the stone-walled surroundings, and blazing sun, she spun in a circle.

“Though we could watch from the coliseum,” Circe mused, “I prefer the view from my looking glass.”

Circe waved a hand, and the rounded looking glass divided itself into multiple viewpoints from different angles of the coliseum. Behind Elle, a giant gate creaked open. A massive, horned creature crept out of the shadows and loomed over my delicate mate.

Run, I tried to scream. It’s behind you, Elle! Run!

As Elle faced the beast, one of the screens zoomed in and captured her horrified expression.

I recognized the two-legged monster’s hooved feet, bulging, furry chest, and arched, wickedly sharp horns. I fought hard to break Circe’s hold, but nothing freed me from the magical paralysis.

As the infamous Minotaur charged Elle, I could do nothing but watch.

???

Elle

A beast from legends and nightmares towered over me and chuffed. His cow-like nostrils flared, breathing in my scent with a deep groan. He licked the snot off his nose with a wide, pink tongue and revealed his thick, yellow teeth—teeth large enough to grind my bones into dust.

The minotaur took a step closer, and his giant hooves stirred the sand. Though I shook from fear, and my heart raced, I stood my ground. After the unforgiving cold, the dry air was suffocatingly hot, and I struggled to think past my need to breath.

Focus, I told myself. Circe had plans for you greater than death. This is a test, which means there must be some way to pass it.

There must be some way to face the minotaur and survive.

Thick, white scars covered his muscular abdomen, and strong, hairy arms. His hands were tipped with brown claws larger than even Ryder’s.

Ryder.

I searched for him in the many rows of stone benches, but no one watched from the crowd. Something shimmered, and I squinted. Atop the towering seats of the coliseum was a shimmering window.

A looking glass.

Was Circe unwilling to bear the heat to watch my so-called test?

My lapse in attention was the opening the minotaur had been waiting for.

The creature charged me, and I ran.

Though he wasn’t swift, his strides covered triple the distance of what mine did. As I raced across the sand, the minotaur’s breath heated the back of my neck, and his steps pounded against the ground.

Faster, faster, faster…

Moving like the wind, I pumped my arms and neared the round perimeter of the coliseum.

Blood stained the chipped limestone walls, and I wondered how many creatures—how many chimeras—Circe had tested in this horrific arena.

Even closer than before, the Minotaur snarled, and I forced myself to focus on the task at hand.

Though the walls were far too tall for me to leap over and too smooth to climb, I hoped they could still be useful.

As an idea struck me, I raced even faster toward the curved perimeter, and the Minotaur quickened his pace behind me. Only fifteen feet separated me from the thick stone, then ten, then five.

When I could’ve reached out and touched the stone, I darted to the left.

Though he was fast, the Minotaur was too large to turn so quickly, and he crashed into the perimeter with a boom.

As I ran as far as I could from the beast, heading toward the center of the coliseum, I risked a glance behind me.

The minotaur pushed himself off the wall, which he had cracked. Growling, he shook the limestone dust from his head and glowered at me.

Though I had hoped the crash would knock him out for longer, I used every precious second to catch my breath. Sweat coated my brow and trickled down my spine. Heat pulsed under my skin.

Medea, I thought. Medea, I know I angered you by digging around in your memories, but I really could use your help. Both of our survival depends on it.

The ancient sorceress was silent.

“Of course,” I muttered, “when I actually want her to appear, she’s gone.”

The Minotaur lumbered closer and cocked his head. His wide ears flipped.

“Can you understand me?” I asked him in a louder voice. “Could we talk?”

With his head cocked, the Minotaur prowled closer.

“How long have you been trapped here?” I called. “Perhaps we can help each other. If you don’t kill me, I can get you out of here.”

The Minotaur bared his teeth and charged me again.

With no magic and no weapons, I ran.

Either he doesn’t understand English, I thought, or my offer really pissed him off.

Knowing the one advantage of my smaller size was my ability to turn quickly, I zig-zagged across the arena. Behind me, the Minotaur chuffed and skidded across the sand. Though the distance between us grew, my breaths turned into desperate pants, and sweat dripped into my eyes.

I couldn’t run forever.

But if I knock him down a few times, I thought, maybe I can run longer than the Minotaur.

Hoping to pull off the same trick, I raced toward the coliseum’s stone walls then darted to the right, but the Minotaur was not a mindless beast. He dove into my path, and before I could stop myself, I smacked into his furry leg.

My face smacked against his hard-packed muscle, and I fell to the ground.

As I scrambled backward across the blazingly hot sand, the Minotaur raised his head and bellowed in triumph. In the sunlight, his teeth gleamed.

I’m going to die, I realized. After everything I’ve survived, I’m going to die in a far-off dimension, completely alone.

The Minotaur beat his fists against his chest and snarled at me.

He didn’t go for the kill shot—not yet. He wanted to savor his victory, to stretch out this moment of having little, weak me at his mercy.

Stripped of my fearsome protectors, I was nothing against this monster but one of his and Circe’s victims.

That heat under my skin pulsed.

As the Minotaur settled his hard-edged brown eyes on mine and bared his teeth in a gruesome smile, a million memories raced in my mind.

The flash of the vampire’s fang before it digs into my skin.

The gleeful smile of the werewolf as he snatches me from my bed in my parents’ yacht.

Cordelia’s satisfaction as she traps me in the darkest recesses of my mind.

Medea’s certainty as she claims my power as her own.

I had taken it—every moment of humiliation and defeat and pain. I had bared it all because it was all I thought I could do. I had just taken it and waited for someone or something to save me .

I suffered all my life to survive, and for what?

To end up here, dying in yet another cruel immortal’s games?

Enough, something within me cried. We’ve endured enough.

I snapped.

As I surged to my feet, a guttural roar tore through my ragged throat.

Strength coursed through my veins like a drug, and pain burst from between my shoulder blades. As I bellowed at the Minotaur, I let the agony fuel me. Though the leathery wings in my periphery weighed enough to make holding them off the ground almost impossible, I gritted my teeth and flared them.

My vision sharpened, allowing me to track the slight widening in his eyes. Scents flooded my nostrils—sand, sweat, fear.

The Minotaur was afraid.

He was afraid of me.

That wild, angry beast inside me bellowed.

“Good,” I spat. “I am not another victim. I am not just another chimera.”

I took a step closer, and the Minotaur recoiled. From deep within my chest, I growled in victory and fixed my gaze upon the distant, shimmering window atop the coliseum and bared my teeth.

“ I am Elle Riley.” Booming with power, my voice shook the coliseum’s blood-stained walls. “And you should be afraid.”