Diana
My blood has turned to ice.
I go perfectly still against Dom’s chest as my heart stutters violently. It skips a beat and then hammers. I don’t even breathe.
I can hear nothing else—just the thunder of my blood rushing through my veins.
The witch turns.
I can feel the shift in the air, the angle of her weight. She’s facing the wardrobe now.
Her steps are slow. Impossibly slow.
And then—she’s right there.
In this moment, I forget that witches do not possess the heightened senses that werewolves do- and I’m sure she can hear the loud beat of my heart.
She places a hand on the handle of the wardrobe door and starts to turn.
Every muscle in my body locks, ready for action. Even Dom tenses behind me.
This is it.
We’re going to be found.
But just before the door opens—
CRASH!
A sharp, shattering sound—glass or ceramic breaking violently.
The Matriarch’s hand leaves the door.
Then I hear the human woman. Her voice trembles so violently it’s barely coherent.
“I—I’m so sorry, Mistress!” s
