Wolves Among Us(47)

Mia got up the courage to look him in the eye. He did not mock her.

“I forget that all this is so new to you. You misunderstand the signs around you. Shall I help you understand? You might feel better.”

She nodded, taking a shuddering little breath.

“I have not yet rescued Bjorn, and for good reason. But you must first understand how their magic works. A witch casts a spell on a man, and the spell cannot be removed by anyone other than a witch. A witch’s death does not break the spell. Only another witch can do it. Do you understand? There will be time to rescue Bjorn. But you must be patient while I work, and if you know of any witches, you must turn them in. I want to see you happy.”

Bastion ran his fingers through her hair, pushing it away from her face. In her rush, she had forgotten to put her scarf on. Her hair fell loose around her shoulders. No man should have seen this; it was as if she was naked before him, before them all standing on those church steps.

“You don’t know any witches, do you, Mia? Anyone you would wish to turn in? You don’t have to have proof. I know you to be a good woman. I will accept your word.”

She ran her hand through her hair, pushing his out.

“Of course not,” she lied. If she said anything about the old healer in the forest, Bastion would have the woman burned. Mia could not live with that guilt too.

“There is no one you suspect?”

Mia saw the village spread out behind him, the women busy at market, returning to their homes. She had chosen work, and silence, over friendship, even more in the years since Rose turned away from her. The women had taken Rose’s side, eyeing Mia with distrust. Or disdain, as if there was a difference. Mia understood what Bastion offered her. He offered her the chance to judge them all. With one pointed finger, she could have revenge.

“No. No one.”

“I know you want to be loved,” he said, leaning in. “But I do have a problem.”

He inhaled, trying to smell her hair. Mia stood very still as he spoke.

“If the spell on Bjorn is broken, how will we know? Has he ever truly loved you?”

Mia’s cheeks burned, and she did not answer.

“If you will never be loved by Bjorn, come with me. When my work is finished here, come with me.”

Mia shook her head.

“I want to save you, Mia. You are a woman worth saving.”

Mia’s nose stung, the first sign of returning tears. She swallowed hard.

Bastion stroked her cheek, his smooth hand finding the contours of her cheek, then stepped back.

“Consider my offer. But if you want to stay, if you are so determined to save this husband that may never love you, think of this: I can command a witch to remove the spell over Bjorn. But why should I, Mia? Should I set Bjorn free only for you to discover that he never loved you? Should I see your heart broken and know I broke it?”

He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to his chest, leaning down and kissing her before he released her. She recognized alcohol on his breath.

“If you want him back, I will make sure you know what it means to be loved first.”

He turned and strode down the steps, leaving Mia there with her heart thundering in her ears, her legs unsteady. She saw villagers staring at her, the women with their mouths open. A stray cat dashed out of the church, past Mia’s feet, startling her. When she looked back at the people, no one raised their faces again to look at her.

Mia understood.

Who would dare speak against me now? she thought. If I hold Bastion’s heart, then I hold their lives.

Mia put her hand over her mouth.

“Who am I becoming?”





Chapter Nineteen


Stefan sat on the pew, his face in his hands. Erick hadn’t returned from dealing with Dame Alice. Mia had fled after his outburst. The church was dead in its silence. He stood and faced the wooden cross hanging above him.

“I’m no use to anyone if I stay in here.” He tapped his toes inside his shoes, then turned and rushed for the doors, trying to move fast before his fears caught him. He stumbled down the steps, shoving people to his right and left, causing them to cry out. Stefan pushed them away until he stood facing Bastion.

Bastion sat in a chair, one leg crossed over the other, gesturing with ease as men from the village crowded around him, listening to his counsel. At his feet seven women from the village crouched on their knees, heads bent to the dust, weeping. Dame Alice faced Bastion, shaking her finger at him.

“These girls are like daughters to me, all of them! You can’t just tie them up and take them away! If you have questions about their character, you come to me!”

Bastion indulged Dame Alice with a smile. “Mother,” he said, “have no fear. Any woman I find to be virtuous will be released.”

As Stefan approached, he saw what had kept Dame Alice safe so far: She was not young or beautiful. Bastion had only the dullest interest in her.

Erick pulled on her arm, trying to move her to safety—somewhere her tongue would not lead to her arrest. When he saw Stefan, he rolled his eyes and let go of Alice. “She’s going to get herself arrested. And me, too. I can’t even repeat what she called me when I tried to stop her.”

Stefan took Alice by the arm, and she glared at him.

“Dame Alice, please. I will resolve this. But you need to be quiet. No sense in getting yourself arrested.”