The grave silence from Miss Cercel as we walked through the void was appreciated. The Beast within the inky purple expanse was hungry as ever. There was no way I could have carried on a conversation with the Witch or fought to keep Zion in line. The war in my mind that raged was more than enough.

Miss Cercel had listened to my rules about traversing the void, so her walking ahead of me on the path wasn’t much of a bother. If she tried to ‘jump ship’ as it were, I could have stoped her, and I was another body between her and the growling werewolf behind me.

The only surprising thing when I walk through the portal back into Naclall, is the barely concealed look of awe on Miss Cercel’s face. I can’t help but swell with pride. I know my home is beautiful, but it never hurts to see others appreciate it as I do. Even with the Were-Guard stationed to restrict portal access, the Witch focuses only on the scenery.

“Welcome to Naclall, Miss Cercel,” I wave her forward after me and the guards part giving us access to the dirt road that split the endless forest all the way to the Wall of Sorrows. Small white flakes of snow float lazily to the ground where they melt near instantaneously. Even still, after the void, the witch who is barefoot and wrapped with only a shawl for warmth, must not be comfortable.

“Would you like my jacket?”

“Please?” Her voice is small. She sounds tired, numb. Denying her would be rude, and though Zion is making her displeasure known with a resurgence of growling, I unbutton and take off my charcoal suit jacket before sliding it over her shoulders.

“Thank you—"

“Ward—” Zion snaps.

“Miss Leif, if your anger lies with me for keeping Miss Cercel from freezing to death before she gets put in her new home, maybe you need to re-think your position on the team.”

Zion’s growling ceases immediately, as does her walking, making Myles stop as well because of his hold on her arm.

“Can…can we get this done and over with, please?”

I sigh quietly and stop as well, turning back to face the Witch. “One moment, Miss, Cercel…”

My head snaps to Zion and Myles, my mouth a grim line. “Both of you are dismissed for the weekend. I can get Miss Cercel to the registrar on my own.”

“Are you serious?” Zion looks from Myles, to Rosilyn to me. “She’s just a fucking Twitcher, Ward, why are you being…nice?”

“Yeah, I don’t get it,” Myles adds. His head cocks as he takes off his hat and rubs his forehead. “Just because she might know some magic that the Queen fears. You collared her, Boss-man, she’s harmless.”

“Don’t underestimate a witch, child.” Miss Cercel murmurs. “I don’t need magic to kill you. If I wanted you dead, you would be.”

“Move a fucking inch and not even your fabled ‘Red Eyes’ will stop me,” Zion’s snarl garbles her words enough that even I can barely understand her, and that’s how I know if there’s not a vulgar display of power on my part that One or both of the women will eventually end up in the hospital.