KNOX
The seer finally agreed to perform the ritual—after Dante threatened to hunt down every last member of her family if she refused.
No one ever took Dante's threats lightly. He always meant every word. Oleander was proof of that.
Now we were back in his room. She still hadn't woken. I couldn't tell what had happened to her exactly, but judging by how pale and still she was, I doubted she'd be waking anytime soon.
Dante moved toward the bed for what felt like the hundredth time. For a second, I thought he might actually grab her by the throat and shake her awake. Instead, he crouched beside her, fingers tracing the ropes binding her wrists and ankles. He tugged each one, testing for slack.
Satisfied, he straightened and turned toward me.
"What?" he grunted, eyes narrowing. "If she turns out to be a witch, I can't risk her casting a spell on me."
A witch? That was a stretch.
