DAPHNE

Every witch is born with a special gifts. It usually shows up by the time they turn five. That's how it's always been, except for me. My mother died the day I was born. The story goes that she held me in her arms, whispered my name, and started shaking uncontrollably. Moments later, she was gone. My father and other powerful witches tried everything, spells, rituals, chants but nothing worked. From that moment on, they began to look at me differently, like I was cursed.

Things only got worse when I turned five. On Reveal Day, the time when young witches show their powers for the first time, nothing happened. No spark, no magic, just silence. I was the daughter of two of the most powerful witches, and yet, I had no power at all.

That day, my father called me hopeless. He locked me in my chamber and ordered Drusilla, his loyal aide, to stay quiet. She, my father, and my brother are the only ones who know the truth. Because if the Witch Council found out that the princess had no magic, it would be a scandal. And worse, it could mean death. Years ago, before I was born, a girl like me was found out. They said she was cursed. Bad luck. Dangerous. So they killed her and her father. The man who led the charge against her, was my father.

Maybe it's karma. His own daughter now lives with the same shame. So when he sent me to the human collateral zone, he didn't hesitate. It was safer there, even among enemies. Better to be killed by humans than by witches. At least the humans would never know what I was missing.

At first, I thought my father was trying to protect me by giving me up as collateral to the humans. I believed he was saving my life. But as I got older, I started to see the truth. He was only saving himself. His name. His reputation.

Maybe the Alpha was right all along, maybe my father wanted me gone.

All my life, I've hidden what I am or rather, what I'm not. I've carried the fear that if the witches ever found out about my weakness, my family would suffer. That's why, even when my term as a collateral ended, I didn’t go back. I stayed in the human world, because there, I didn't feel like a burden. There, I had Natalie. She used to tell me that my powers were just taking longer to appear and that it meant I was special. I knew she only said that to make me feel better, but the truth is I never felt like a witch. I never saw myself as one.

So maybe Ezekiel was right, maybe I'm not a witch at all.

But I'd never admit the truth to him. Not to the enemy.

"That... that's not true." I gasp, even as his grip tightens around my neck.

He leans in closer, his face just inches from mine. "Then prove it. Cast a spell. Do something."

I don't move. I can't. There's nothing I can do, and even if there was, I wouldn't use it. I'd rather die than tell him what I really am. So I stop fighting, I stop struggling. I let my arms fall, let the tears slip down my cheeks. I close my eyes, waiting for the end, but it doesn't come.

Suddenly, his hand releases me, and I drop to the floor, coughing, gasping for air. My throat burns. My chest aches. I don't understand, why didn't he kill me?

"Who's outside?" He calls sharply.

The door opens and two guards step in, heads bowed low.

"Take her to her room." He orders.

Without a word, the guards grab my arms and drag me through the halls. My legs barely move beneath me, but my mind is racing with one question. Why did he let me live?

When we reach my room, they shove the door open, toss me inside, and slam it shut behind me. And still, I don't have an answer.

A shaky breath slips from my lips as I stare around my room. It's dim and plain, like no one bothered to make it feel like home. I walk over to the bed and sit at the edge, my gaze lost in the shadows. The tears I've been holding back finally fall, warm and steady, like rain.

I'm scared, but I don't even know what I'm scared of. Everything, maybe, or nothing. I just miss Natalie and I hate that I can't do anything to find her. I'm powerless and useless. I can't even help the one person who means most to me. And now, here I am, crying like a child. I hate myself for being this weak.

The door creaks open.

I turn quickly, wiping my face with the back of my hand. Ezekiel steps in, calm and unreadable. Why is he here again? Hasn't he done enough already?

He closes the door behind him and walks toward me with slow, deliberate steps. Then he stops, standing just in front of me, looking down.

I glance up and spot the knife in his hand, the same one I stabbed him with. The wound is gone, not even a scar. It's like it never happened.

"Are you here to finish me off?" I whisper, my voice shaky.

"Hand over your weapons." He says, his tone flat but firm.

I stare at him, confused. "Worried I might use them on your pack?" I ask, trying to sound bold. I know wolfsbane didn’t work on him, but it could still hurt the others.

He doesn't answer. Instead, he stares at me with an unyielding gaze, and something in his eyes make my skin crawl. Without another word, I reach into my boot, pull out two knives, and place them on the bed.

"You have more." He says, voice deep and rough, still staring down at me.

"I don't." I lie. "That's all I have." I can’t give them all up. What if I need to protect myself?

He crouches in front of me, and his broad figure blocks everything else from view. His face is so close I can feel the heat of his breath on my skin. I lean back a little.

"Wha... What are you doing?" I stammer, my heart pounding.

"Should I find them myself?" He's threatening me.

"I already told you...."

Before I can finish, he grabs the back of my head and pulls me toward him. Our faces are so close, so uncomfortably close. His breath is warm against my cheek, and I freeze, overwhelmed by something I don't understand.

His eyes drop to the bruises on my neck, the spots where his claws had broken skin. He stares at them for a moment before looking back into my eyes. He doesn't say anything, just keeps staring too close, too quiet. It's strange. Should I say something? Should I just drop my hidden knife and stop whatever this is?

"Were you crying?" He asks, his deep voice comes low and almost gentle, so gentle it's hard to believe he nearly killed me minutes ago.

"As if you care." I snap, my voice sharp with hurt.

"I thought you were tough." He says, his fingers now brushing the back of my head, running through my hair like he has a right to. "Turns out you're just a crybaby."

I try to pull away, but he holds me still.

"I hate you." I whisper, breathing hard.

"It'd be weird if you didn't." He murmurs back and before I can react, I feel his other hand slipping under my dress, fingers moving up my thigh.

"You pervert!" I shout and kick at him, trying to shove him off, but he doesn't move.

"Stay still."

"Let go of me!" I yell, panic rising in my chest. I won’t let him do this to me.

Just then, the door bursts open. We both turn our heads to see Caelum standing there, holding a first aid kit. He freezes in place when he sees us. Ezekiel is over me, one hand in my hair, the other under my dress. Anyone would think we were doing something else.

"Sorry!" Caelum blurts out, eyes wide, cheeks red. He quickly turns and shuts the door behind him.

I wanted to scream that it wasn't what Caelum thought it was but he was already gone. I glare at Ezekiel, furious, and then I feel it, his hand pulling something out from under my dress. That's when it hit me. He wasn't trying to mess with me... he was after my last hidden knife.

He holds it up, then reaches for the pin in my hair. With one quick tug, he pulls it out, and my hair tumble down over my shoulders like a curtain of silk.

Finally, he steps back and gives me space. Then, pointing the knife at me, he says calmly. "I can sense lies, you know." He looks straight at me. "I can always tell when you're lying, Daphne."

I swallow hard. It isn't just what he says, it is the way he calls my name, like he enjoys the taste of it on his tongue.

He stands, grabs the other two knives from the bed, and turns away. "Caelum will take care of your wound." He says, already heading for the door.

"Why have you been watching me?" I ask quickly, voice tight.

"Get some rest, princess." He replies without looking back.

"What did you do to my friend?" I demand, louder this time. But he doesn't answer. He just opens the door.

"You’re an idiot!" I shout after him, hoping he'd turn around. He doesn't. "Bastard! Asshole! Dickhead! Fucking murderer!"

Still no response. The door closes behind him, and I collapse back onto the bed, letting out a long sigh.

What a day.