Erica's POV. He stood straight, panting as he wiped off the blood that trickled down one corner of his lips with the back of his hand. “I thought you were fighting war,” I finally stood up, not that I was surprised, I was just…maybe asking myself a lot of questions, why he was here, why he wasn't fighting off rivals with the others…or maybe he didn't really fear his father like I thought he would. “I am…fighting war,” He said as he spread his arms confidently. A confident smile dancing across his lips. “I didn't expect you to be here,” I swallowed, avoiding his gaze. “Me either…” He said, as he shrugged, “Now I'm taking you home.” He said as he started off, leading the way. “It's Agnes…isn't it?” I asked, and watched him stop dead on track, he clenched his fist as I could imagine the discomfort it had caused him, “Heaven said you were plotting against the witches because of her,” I added as he spun around. “Heaven—the one with the sharpest hearing!” He clapped his hands, before
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