The Witch
My name is Tamara Montague. I am a witch. I am good. I will not break. They will not break me.
I traced the words over and over again. It was the only thing keeping me sane. Which was no easy feat. I’d been trapped in this mountain for fifteen years—or was it sixteen? Locked in darkness, forced to help these people do horrendous things.
They had no idea what they did when they stole a piece of my power.
That the fourteen thousand survivors always had those powers within them, all the incident did was unlock them.
Magic resided in most living things, if you knew where to look.
When they poisoned the water, it allowed the survivors to access what was always inside them. All but one.
If only that hunter had killed me instead of handing me over to New Dawn to be locked away, tortured and beaten, but not broken—never broken. I was a Montague witch, and I would not let these men break me. Though they tried and tried and tried. Like they were trying to break the girl.
No, no. Not girl—woman. Violet.
The O’Neill boy had been after her for years.
He finally got her, but he couldn’t break her either.
Granted he’d only been at it for four weeks, but Violet was stronger than he’d anticipated.
He’d enlisted my help. I’d refused. He had me beaten within an inch of my life.
He didn’t understand that Violet would never be his.
No, but he would learn. Soon.
It took me too long to recover from the beating I received when I refused to break into Violet’s mind.
He wanted to make sure she wouldn’t be able to reach out to any of the villains she worked with.
He was worried about telepathy. He hadn’t known about the bridge linking Violet to her other half. I didn’t tell him. The other witch did.
She was young when they got their hands on her.
She hadn’t fully come into her powers—she still hadn’t, which was the only reason I was still around.
I tried to tell them that there were some things you just shouldn’t mess with.
A soulmate bond was one of those things.
But they didn’t listen; they sent me to the hospital wing instead.
It would cost them.
The young witch had no idea the consequences of interfering with a bond made by the gods. The longer she kept the black mist hovering over the bridge, the more of her own soul she would lose.
I spent too long recovering. I needed to get rid of the mist, I needed to get Violet back to her mate. It was the only way I could finally be free.
My name is Tamara Montague. I am a witch. I am good. I will not break. They will not break me.
It took me a day to carve out a pebble I could use to etch my words into the stone of my cell. Usually, it only took an hour or two after being moved to a new cell, but I was so weak—trying to save my strength for Violet. She needed—
Movement caught my eye. I looked to the right hand corner of my cell and smiled.
“Hello, curious little shadow. I was wondering how long it would take you to find me.” I held my hand out to the darkness. “It’s okay, you can trust me.”
The shadow stayed put. I didn’t blame him.
“It’s Niko, right? That’s what the Hayes girl calls you?”
Who are you?
“No one of consequence. A concerned witch that would like to help.”
Why have I not seen you before?
I smiled. “I’ve been receiving much the same treatment as your lady. I did not do what they wanted, and I was punished for it. Severely.”
Can you tell me what you know?
“Gladly.”